diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/53769-h/53769-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/53769-h/53769-h.htm | 13257 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 13257 deletions
diff --git a/old/53769-h/53769-h.htm b/old/53769-h/53769-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 3c38705..0000000 --- a/old/53769-h/53769-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13257 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Floreat Etona: Anecdotes and Memories of Eton College, by Ralph Nevill. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -/*Modified horizontal rules to fix ePub display issue*/ -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -/*End modified horizontal rule CSS*/ - -/*Index list items*/ -ul.index { list-style-type: none; } -li.ifrst { margin-top: 1em; } -li.indx { margin-top: .5em; } -li.isub1 {text-indent: 1em;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -/*Table of Contents format*/ -table.toc { max-width: 30em;} -td.tocchapter{ text-align: right; vertical-align: top; padding-right: 1em;} -td.toctitle { text-align: left; vertical-align: top; text-indent: -1.3em; padding-left: 1.3em;} -td.tocpage { text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom; padding-left: 1em;} - -table.mont{max-width:25em} -td.monttitle{text-align:left; text-indent:1em} -td.montname{text-align:left; text-indent:2em} -td.montname1{text-align:left; text-indent:4em} - -table.cost{max-width:25em} -td.costname{text-align: left; vertical-align: top; text-indent: -1.3em; padding-left: 1.3em;} -td.costamount{text-align:right; vertical-align: bottom; padding-left: 1em;} -td.bbot{border-bottom: 0.1em solid black} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.sidenote, .sni{ - text-indent: 0; - text-align: left; - min-width: 8.5em; /*optional, but making all sidenotes the same width looks better*/ - max-width: 8.5em; /*make this just big enough for the widest word in any sidenote */ - padding-bottom: .3em; - padding-top: .3em; - padding-left: .3em; - padding-right: .3em; - margin-right: 1em; - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: .3em; - font-size: smaller; - color: black; - background-color: #eeeeee; - border: thin dotted gray; -} -.sni {text-indent: -.2em;} -.hidev {visibility: hidden;} - -.boxcap{ - max-width: 17em; - padding: 0em; - border: 0em solid black; - margin: 0 auto; } - -/* fractions*/ -.fnum, .fden { font-size: .7em; } -.fnum { vertical-align: text-top } -.fden { vertical-align: text-bottom } - -.nowrap { - white-space:nowrap; -} -/* end fractions */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -/* Footnotes */ -.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -.padleft{padding-left:1em} - -/*CSS for inline columns*/ -.inlinecolumna{ - display: inline-block; - vertical-align:top; - margin-left: 0em; - margin-right: 0em; -} - -.inlinecolumnb{ - display: inline-block; - vertical-align:top; - margin-right:0.2em; - margin-left:0.25em; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} - -.poetry -{ - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} - -.poetry .indentbase {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .indentquotebase {text-indent: -3.5em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .indentone{text-indent: 1em;} -.poetry .indent15{text-indent: 2em;} -.poetry .indenttwo{text-indent: 4em;} -.poetry .indentthree{text-indent: 7em;} -/* End poetry*/ - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -/*CSS to set font sizes*/ -/*font sizes for non-header font changes*/ -.xlargefont{font-size: x-large} -.largefont{font-size: large} -.smallfont{font-size: small} - -/*CSS to force a page break in ePub*/ -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} - -/*Half-title page CSS*/ -#half-title -{ - text-align: center; - font-size: x-large; -} - -@media screen -{ - #half-title{ - margin: 6em 0; - } -} - -@media print, handheld -{ - #half-title{ - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; - margin: 0; - padding-top: 6em; - } - .sidenote, .sni{ - float: left; - clear: none; - font-weight: bold; - } -} -/*End half-title page CSS*/ - -/*CSS markup for handhelds -- put at end of CSS*/ -@media handheld -{ - img {max-width: 100%; height: auto;} /*Limit width to display*/ - - h2.no-break - { - page-break-before: avoid; - padding-top: 0; - } - - .poetry - { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - } -} -/*End CSS for handhelds*/ - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Floreat Etona, by Ralph Nevill - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Floreat Etona - Anecdotes and Memories of Eton College - -Author: Ralph Nevill - -Release Date: December 19, 2016 [EBook #53769] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLOREAT ETONA *** - - - - -Produced by deaurider, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 544px;"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/i_cover.jpg" width="544" height="850" alt="Cover." /> -</div> - -<p id="half-title">FLOREAT ETONA</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> -<img src="images/i_f02.jpg" width="200" height="68" alt="MacMillan Logo" /> -</div> - -<p class="center">MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class="smcap">Limited</span><br /> -<span class="smallfont">LONDON <span class="padleft">BOMBAY </span><span class="padleft">CALCUTTA</span><br /> -MELBOURNE</span></p> - -<p class="center" style="margin-top:1em">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> -<span class="smallfont">NEW YORK <span class="padleft">BOSTON </span><span class="padleft">CHICAGO</span><br /> -ATLANTA <span class="padleft">SAN FRANCISCO</span></span></p> - -<p class="center" style="margin-top:1em">THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span><br /> -<span class="smallfont">TORONTO</span> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<div id="Fig_Frontispiece" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" width="600" height="410" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Great Court of Eton College.<br /> -<em>Engraved by J. Black after W. Westall, 1816.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 371px;"> -<img src="images/i_title.jpg" width="371" height="650" alt="Title Page" /> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<h1>FLOREAT ETONA</h1> - - -<p class="center largefont" style="margin-top:3em">ANECDOTES AND MEMORIES<br /> -OF ETON COLLEGE</p> - -<p class="center" style="margin-top:4em"><span class="smallfont">BY</span><br /> -<span class="largefont">RALPH NEVILL</span></p> - -<p class="center largefont" style="margin-top:7em">MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br /> -ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON</p> - -<p class="center">1911 -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center" style="line-height:175%">IN MEMORY<br /> -<span class="smallfont">OF MY DEAR OLD ETON FRIEND</span><br /> -<span class="xlargefont">S. S. S.</span></p> - -<p class="center smallfont" style="margin-top:2em"> -Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales awake;<br /> -For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take. -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Author wishes to acknowledge the great -debt of gratitude which he owes to those who -have assisted him by the loan of books, photographs, -and prints.</p> - -<p>First and foremost stands the Right Honourable -Lewis Harcourt, M.P., who has most kindly -afforded him access to his unique collection of -Eton books—eventually destined, it is understood, -for the school library.</p> - -<p>The Earl of Rosebery, K.G., has also shown -great good-nature in lending a number of interesting -prints, reproductions of which will be found -amongst the illustrations.</p> - -<p>Especial thanks are due to Mr. Robert John -Graham Simmonds, resident agent of the Hawkesyard -estate, who took considerable trouble to -furnish valuable information concerning the old -Eton organ case, a photograph of which, by the -courteous permission of the Dominican fathers, -was taken in their chapel at Rugeley. The -photographs of the old oak panelling formerly in -the Eton Chapel were obligingly contributed by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> -Mrs. Sheridan, in whose entrance hall at Frampton -Court, Dorset, this panelling now is.</p> - -<p>The author also wishes to thank a number of -old Etonians who have furnished him with -anecdotes and notes which have proved of much -assistance. Chief among these must be mentioned -his cousin, the Right Hon. Sir Algernon -West, one of the few survivors of “Montem,” -Mr. Douglas Ainslie, and Mr. Vivian Bulkeley -Johnson—some other obligations are acknowledged -in the text. His debt to previous books -dealing with Eton will be evident; and a number -of the coloured plates are reproduced from the -scarce work on Public Schools published by -Ackermann a little short of a hundred years ago.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - - -<div class="center"> -<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<tr><td class="tocchapter"></td><td class="toctitle"></td><td class="tocpage"><span class="smallfont">PAGE</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">1.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Early Days</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">2.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Old Customs and Ways</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">3.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Dr. Keate—Flogging and Fighting</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">4.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">“Cads,” and the “Christopher”</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">5.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Montem</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">6.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">The College Buildings</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">7.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">College</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">8.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">School Work</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">9.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Rowing and Games</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter">10.</td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Yesterday and To-day</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tocchapter"></td><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Index</span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_331">331</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> - - - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - -<p class="center largefont" style="margin-top:2em">IN COLOUR</p> - -<div class="center"> -<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr><td class="toctitle"></td><td class="tocpage"><span class="smallfont">FACE PAGE</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Great Court of Eton College</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_Frontispiece"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Oppidan’s Museum or Eton Court of Claims at the Christopher</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_116">116</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Ad Montem, 1838</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_144">144</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Cloisters of Eton College</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_158">158</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The College Hall before Restoration</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_164">164</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Chapel before Restoration</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_184">184</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">A Colleger, 1816</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_196">196</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Eton College from the River</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_328">328</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p class="center largefont" style="margin-top:2em">IN BLACK AND WHITE</p> - -<div class="center"> -<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Eton in the Seventeenth Century</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_16">16</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Eton College from Crown Corner</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_32">32</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Headmaster’s Room, showing Swishing Block and Birches</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_82">82</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Jack Hall, Fisherman of Eton</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_102">102</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Herbert Stockhore, the “Montem Poet,” going to Salt Hill in 1823</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_129">129</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Montem of 1823</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_130">130</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">The Montem of 1841—The March round the School-Yard</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_140">140</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Old Oak Panelling formerly in Eton Chapel</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_174">174</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Carved and Decorated Organ Case formerly in Eton Chapel</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_176">176</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">James Culliford, the last Chief Butler of College to wear the livery of Eton blue</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_202">202</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Old College Servants</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_206">206</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle">Sixth-Form Bench</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_226">226</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="toctitle"><span style="margin-left:4em">Say Father Thames, for thou hast seen</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:4.1em">Full many a sprightly race,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:2.9em">Disporting on thy margent green.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:4.1em">The paths of pleasure trace.—<cite>Gray’s Ode</cite></span></td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Fig_242">242</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - -<h2>I<br /> -EARLY DAYS</h2> - - -<p>Amongst public schools Eton admittedly occupies -a unique position. Every one admires the -beauty of its surroundings, whilst to those -possessed of imagination—more especially, of -course, if they are Etonians—the school and its -traditions cannot fail to appeal.</p> - -<p>In addition to many of its associations being -connected with glorious chapters of English -history, the old quadrangle, chapel, and playing -fields possess a peculiar charm of their own, due -to a feeling that the spirit of past ages still hovers -around them. There is, indeed, a real sentimental -pleasure in the thought that many of England’s -greatest men laid the foundations of brilliant -and successful careers amidst these venerable and -picturesque surroundings. No other school can -claim to have sent forth such a cohort of distinguished -figures to make their mark in the world; -and of this fine pageant of boyhood not a few, -without doubt, owed their success to the spirit -of manly independence and splendid unconscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -happiness which the genius of the place seems to -have the gift of bestowing.</p> - -<p>No other school exercises such an attraction -over its old boys as Eton, with many of whom the -traditions of the place become almost a second -religion. “I hate Eton,” the writer once heard -an individual who had been educated elsewhere -frankly say, “for whenever I come across two or -three old Etonians, and the subject is mentioned, -they can talk of nothing else.”</p> - -<p>The affection felt for the school is the greatest -justification for its existence; an educational institution -which can inspire those sent there with -a profound and lasting pride and belief in its -superiority over all other schools, must of necessity -possess some special and fine qualities not to be -found elsewhere. The vast majority of boys -experience a vague feeling of sentimental regret -when the time for leaving arrives—they have a -keen sense of the break with a number of old and -pleasant associations, soon to become things of -the past—the school yard and the venerable old -buildings, so lovingly touched by the hand of -Time, never seem so attractive as then, whilst -the incomparable playing fields, in their summer -loveliness, acquire a peculiar and unique charm. -As a gifted son of Eton, the late Mr. Mowbray -Morris, has so well said, “shaded by their immemorial -brotherhood of elms, and kissed by the -silver winding river, they will stand undimmed -and unforgotten when the memory of many a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -more famous, many a more splendid scene has -passed away.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FOUNDATION</div> - -<p>For the true Etonian there is no such thing -as a final parting from these surroundings, the -indefinable charm of which remains in his mind -up to the last day of his life. Fitly enough, this -love for Eton, handed on from generation to -generation, and affecting every kind of disposition -and character, has been most happily expressed -by a poet who was himself an Etonian—John -Moultrie. May his lines continue to be applicable -to the old school for many ages to come!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentone">And through thy spacious courts, and o’er thy green -</div><div class="indentone">Irriguous meadows, swarming as of old, -</div><div class="indentone">A youthful generation still is seen, -</div><div class="indentone">Of birth, of mind, of humour manifold: -</div><div class="indentone">The grave, the gay, the timid, and the bold, -</div><div class="indentone">The noble nursling of the palace hall, -</div><div class="indentone">The merchant’s offspring, heir to wealth untold, -</div><div class="indentone">The pale-eyed youth, whom learning’s spells enthrall, -</div><div class="indentbase">Within thy cloisters meet, and love thee, one and all. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>The history of the College has been so ably -written by Sir Henry Maxwell Lyte, that it -would here be superfluous to do more than touch -upon a few incidents of special interest.</p> - -<p>Henry VI., unlike the warlike Plantagenets -from whom he sprang, was essentially of studious -disposition, and the foundation of a college—one of -his favourite schemes, almost from boyhood—was a -project which he at once gratified on reaching years -of discretion. In 1441, when nineteen, he granted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -the original charter to “The King’s College of our -Lady of Eton besides Wyndsor.”</p> - -<p>This ancient constitution remained in force till -the year 1869, when a new governing body was -introduced, which drew up new statutes two years -later. The last Fellow representing the old foundation, -as instituted by Henry VI., was the late -Bursar, the Rev. W. A. Carter, who died in 1892.</p> - -<p>On the completion of the arrangements for the -institution of the College, the old parish church, -standing in what is now the graveyard of the -chapel, was pulled down, and a new edifice of “the -hard stone of Kent—the most substantial and the -best abiding,” begun. Roger Keyes, before Warden -of All Souls College, Oxford, was appointed master -of the works, receiving a patent of nobility and a -grant of arms for his services. At the same time -the newly founded College was assigned a coat -of arms, three white lilies (typical of the Virgin -and of the bright flowers of science) upon a field -of sable being combined with the fleur-de-lys of -France and the leopard passant of England, to -form the design with which Etonians have been -familiar for more than four hundred and fifty -years.</p> - -<p>In 1442 came the first Provost, William of -Waynflete, from Winchester, bringing with him, -no doubt, some scholars who formed the nucleus of -the new foundation. So much on the lines of the -College on the banks of the Itchen was Eton -founded, though from the first various differences<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -prevailed—the number of commoners in college -(<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">commensales in collegio</i>), for instance, was doubled, -it being stipulated that they must belong to -families entitled to bear arms.</p> - -<p>The connection between the two schools was -close. An alliance, known as the “Amicabilis Concordia,” -pledging Eton and Winchester to a mutual -defence of each other’s rights and privileges, was -instituted—a bond of friendship and amity which -has never been broken up to the present day.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ORIGINAL DESIGN</div> - -<p>The original design of Henry VI. had contemplated -a huge nave for the chapel, which would -have stretched right down what is now known as -Keate’s Lane. This, however, was never completed, -William of Waynflete eventually finishing -the building with the present ante-chapel, built of -Headington stone, for which, it should be added, -Bath stone was substituted some thirty-four -years ago.</p> - -<p>There exists a legend that in the reign of -Edward IV. Eton only escaped suppression owing -to the intercession of Jane Shore. Though the -story seems to rest upon no solid historical -foundation, it is curious to note that two portraits -of this Royal favourite are preserved in the -Provost’s Lodge.</p> - -<p>When Henry VII. escorted Philip of Castile -“toward the seaside” on his return home in 1505, -the two kings passed through Windsor—“all the -children of Eaton standing along the barres of the -Church yeard.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p>Henry VIII. paid a visit to the school in July -1510, and made a monetary donation, as was -customary in his day.</p> - -<p>The College curriculum at that time seems to -have been of a somewhat elementary kind: as late -as 1530 no Greek was taught. Great stress was -laid upon prayers and devotion, as the following -description left to us by William Malim, Headmaster -in 1561, shows:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“They come to schole at vj. of the clok in the mornyng. -They say Deus misereatur, with a colecte; at ix, they say -De profundis and go to brekefaste. Within a quarter of an -howere cum ageyne, and tary (till) xj. and then to dyner; at -v. to soper, afore an antheme and De profundis.</p> - -<p>Two prepositores in every forme, whiche dothe give in -a schrowe the absentes namys at any lecture, and shewith -when and at what tyme both in the fore none for the tyme -past and at v.</p> - -<p>Also ij. prepositores in the body of the chirche, ij. in -the gwere for spekyng of Laten in the third forme and all -other, every one a custos, and in every howse a monytor.</p> - -<p>When they goe home, ij. and ij. in order, a monitor to -se that they do soe tyll they come at there hostise dore. -Also prevy monytores how many the master wylle. Prepositores -in the field whan they play, for fyghtyng, rent clothes, -blew eyes, or siche like.</p> - -<p>Prepositores for yll kept hedys, unwasshid facys, fowle -clothes, and sich other. Yff there be iiij. or v. in a howse, -monytores for chydyng and for Laten spekyng.</p> - -<p>When any dothe come newe, the master dothe inquire -fro whens he comyth, what frendys he hathe, whether there -be any plage. No man gothe owte off the schole nother -home to his frendes without the masteres lycence. Yff -there be any dullard, the master gyvith his frends warnyng, -and puttyth hym away, that he sclander not the schole.“</p></blockquote> - -<p>Latin plays were acted during the long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -winter evenings. Several of these were written -by Nicholas Udall (Headmaster, 1534-1541), the -author of <cite>Ralph Roister Doister</cite>, the first English -comedy.</p> - -<p>For almost two hundred years, from 1563, -when William Malim resigned (owing, it is said, -to his severity having caused some boys to run -away), comparatively obscure men held the office -of Headmaster, and were overshadowed by -Provosts who left their mark upon the school.</p> - -<p>Henry VIII. was one day much astonished -when informed by Sir Thomas Wyatt that he had -discovered a living of a hundred a year which -would be more than enough for him. “We have -no such thing in England,” said the King. “Yes, -Sir,” replied Sir Thomas, “the Provostship of -Eton, where a man has his diet, his lodging, his -horse-meat, his servants’ wages, his riding charges, -and £100 per annum.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ETONIAN MARTYRS</div> - -<p>During the troublous days of the Reformation -Eton appears to have undergone little change; but -a number of old Etonians and Fellows went to the -stake for Protestantism under Queen Mary.</p> - -<p>The names of the Etonians who underwent -martyrdom for the reformed faith were <span class="smcap">John -Fuller</span>, who became a scholar of King’s in 1527, -and was burnt to death on Jesus Green in Cambridge, -April 2, 1556; <span class="smcap">Robert Glover</span>, scholar -of King’s in 1533, burnt to death at Coventry -on September 20, 1555; <span class="smcap">Lawrence Saunders</span>, -scholar of King’s in 1538, burnt to death at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -Coventry on February 8, 1556; <span class="smcap">John Hullier</span>, -scholar of King’s also, in 1588, burnt to -death on Jesus Green, Cambridge, on April 2, -1556. “Their faith was strong unto death and -they sealed their belief with their blood.”</p> - -<p>On the other hand, Dr. Henry Cole, appointed -Provost in 1554, behaved in a disgraceful manner. -Having advocated the Reformation, he became in -Queen Mary’s reign a rigid Romanist, and was -appointed by her to preach, before the execution -of Cranmer, in St. Mary’s Church at Oxford. He -became Dean of St. Paul’s in 1556, and Vicar-General -under Cardinal Pole in 1557. Soon after -the accession of Elizabeth he was deprived of -his Deanery, fined 500 marks, and imprisoned. -Whether he was formally deprived of the Provostship, -or withdrew silently, does not appear. He -died in the Fleet in 1561.</p> - -<p>In 1563 and 1570 Queen Elizabeth paid visits -to the College, and a memorial of her beneficence -is still to be seen on a panel of the College -hall.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> - -<p>At that time the school seems to have been -divided into seven forms; of these the first three -were under the Lower Master—an arrangement -which was only altered in 1868, when First and -Second Forms ceased to exist and a Fourth Form -was included as part of what now corresponds to -Lower School. It is a curious coincidence that -even in those early days Fourth Form during<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -part of the school hours were under the Lower -Master’s control.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“FLOGGING DAY”</div> - -<p>Their two meals were dinner at eleven and -supper at seven, bedtime being at eight. Friday, -it is interesting to learn, was set aside as “flogging -day.”</p> - -<p>At a comparatively early period in the history -of the school the tendency which within the last -forty years abolished the First and Second Forms -seems to have been in existence, no First Form -figuring in the school list of 1678, in which its -place is taken by the Bibler’s seat—the Bibler -being a boy deputed to read a portion of Scripture -in the Hall during dinner.</p> - -<p>In Queen Elizabeth’s day the praepostors or -“prepositores,” as they were then called, played -a great part in the daily round of school life. -There were then two of them in every form who -noted down absentees and performed other duties -such as the praepostors of the writer’s own day -(1879-83) were wont to perform.</p> - -<p>Up to quite recent years, it may be added, -there was a praepostor to every division of the -school, the office being taken by each boy in turn, -who marked the boys in at school and chapel, -collected work from boys staying out, and the -like. Now, however, the only division which -retains a praepostor is the Headmaster’s.</p> - -<p>Eton was also connected with the Virgin Queen -by its Provost, Sir Henry Savile, who had instructed -her in Greek. Sir Henry is said to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -have been stern in his theory and practice of discipline -respecting the scholars. He preferred boys -of steady habits and resolute industry to the more -showy but more flighty students. He looked on -the sprightly wits, as they were termed, with dislike -and distrust. According to his judgment, -irregularity in study was sure to be accompanied -by irregularity in other things. He used to say, -“Give me the plodding student. If I would look -for wits, I would go to Newgate: there be the -wits.”</p> - -<p>It would seem that at this time the custom of -inscribing the names of noblemen at the head of -their division—whether they deserved it or not—still -flourished. Youthful scions of aristocracy enjoyed -many privileges—young Lord Wriothesley, for -instance, who was at Eton in 1615, had a page to -wait upon him at meals.</p> - -<p>Sir Henry Savile died at Eton on February -19, 1621, and was buried in the College Chapel. -He was married, but left no family. An amusing -anecdote is told of Lady Savile, who, like the -wives of other hard-reading men, was jealous of -her husband’s books. The date of the anecdote -is the time when Savile was preparing his great -edition of Chrysostom. “This work,” we are -told, “required such long and close application -that Sir Henry’s lady thought herself neglected, -and coming to him one day into his study, she -said, ‘Sir Henry, I would I were a book too, -and then you would a little more respect me.’ To<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -which one standing by replied, ‘You must then -be an almanack, madam, that he might change -you every year,’ which answer, it is added, displeased -her, as it is easy to believe.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SIR HENRY WOTTON</div> - -<p>The next man of note who became Provost -was Sir Henry Wotton, who obtained the appointment -in place of Lord Bacon, it being feared -that the debts of the latter might bring discredit -upon the College. Wotton it was who built the -still existing Lower School with its quaint pillars.</p> - -<p>Izaak Walton speaks of this in the <cite>Compleat -Angler</cite>:—“He (Wotton) was a constant -of all those youths in that school, in whom he -found either a constant diligence or a genius that -prompted them to learning; for whose encouragement -he was (besides many other things of -necessity and beauty) at the charge of setting up -in it two rows of pillars, on which he caused -to be choicely drawn the pictures of divers of -the most famous Greek and Latin historians, -poets and orators; persuading them not to neglect -rhetoric, because ‘Almighty God hath left mankind -affections to be wrought upon.’”</p> - -<p>Izaak Walton and Sir Henry loved to fish -together, and the spot where the two friends indulged -their love of angling is well known. It -was about a quarter of a mile below the College -at a picturesque bend of the river which, once -an ancient fishery, is still known as Black Potts.</p> - -<p>Here the late Dr. Hornby had a riverside villa -where he spent a good deal of his time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sir Henry was a great observer of boyhood, as -certain quaint observations of his show:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“When I mark in children much solitude and silence I -like it not, nor anything born before its time, as this must -needs be in that sociable and exposed life as they are for the -most part. When either alone or in company they sit still -without doing of anything, I like it worse. For surely all -disposition to idleness and vacancie, even before they grow -habits, are dangerous; and there is commonly but little -distance in time between doing of nothing and doing of ill.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>He was besides a philosopher sagely writing:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“The seeing that very place where I sate when a boy, -occasioned me to remember those very thoughts of my -youth, which then possessed me; sweet thoughts indeed, -that promised my growing years numerous pleasures without -mixture of cares, and those to be enjoyed when time (which -I therefore thought slow-paced) had changed my youth into -manhood. But age and experience have taught me that -those were but empty hopes. And though my days have -been many, and those mixed with more pleasures than the -sons of men do usually enjoy, yet I have always found it -true, as my Saviour did foretell, ‘<em>Sufficient for the day is the -evil thereof</em>.’ Nevertheless I saw there a succession of boys -using the same recreations, and questionless possessed with -the same thoughts. Thus one generation succeeds another, -both in their lives, recreations, hopes, fears, and deaths.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>During the Provostship of Wotton the tranquillity -of Eton life was disturbed by troops being -quartered in the town, whilst a number of French -hostages had such a bad effect upon the boys, with -whom they mingled, and upon the Fellows, whom -they introduced to improper characters, that De -Foix, the French Ambassador, was entreated to -interfere.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">PROVOST ROUSE</div> - -<p>Sir Henry Wotton’s successor as Provost, -Stewart by name, took up arms for King Charles -I. at Oxford, his example being followed by a -number of loyal Etonians. With the triumph -of the Commonwealth came a Roundhead Provost, -Francis Rouse by name, who was afterwards -Speaker of the Barebones Parliament and one -of Cromwell’s peers. Eton did not fare badly -under the Protector, but the spirit of loyalty to -the king nevertheless seems to have continued -dominant, and the “Restoration” was welcomed -with joy.</p> - -<p>Francis Lord Rouse had been buried with great -pomp in Lupton’s Chapel, banners and escutcheons -being set up to commemorate his memory, which -is still kept green by the old elms he planted in -the playing fields. All such insignia, however, -were destroyed when the king had come into his -own, and were torn down and thrown away as -tokens of “damned baseness and rebellion” by the -Royalist Provost and Fellows. In 1767 the irons -which had kept these picturesque memorials in -place were still to be seen, but all traces of them -are now gone; probably they were torn out at -the “restoration” of 1846. To us of a later and -more impartial age, the insults heaped upon the -memory of Provost Rouse seem to have been -undeserved, and there certainly appears no justification -for his having been called an “illiterate old -Jew.” On the other hand, the imagination cannot -be otherwise than stirred by the name of Provost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -Allestree, who had fought for King Charles in the -students’ troop at Oxford and at the risk of his -life conducted a correspondence for Charles II. -His services to the Royalist cause would, nevertheless, -in all probability not have been repaid had -not Rochester introduced him to the frivolous -king. Rochester had made a bet that he would -find an uglier man than Lauderdale, and having -come across Allestree, who was exceedingly unattractive -in face, introduced him to Charles in -order to win the wager. Charles then recalled -the devotion of the individual with whom he was -confronted, and with justice and good judgment -made him Provost of Eton.</p> - -<p>Allestree, though he resided a good deal at -Oxford, did his best to set Eton in order, and, -amongst other wise and useful acts, built Upper -School. Owing, however, to defective construction, -or to a fire, this had to be entirely rebuilt by -subscription a few years later, when it assumed the -form which it still retains.</p> - -<p>Provost Allestree found the College in debt -and difficulty, and the reputation of the school -greatly decayed. He left an unencumbered and -flourishing revenue, and restored the fame of Eton -as a place of learning to its natural eminence. -Besides building Upper School at his own private -expense, he also erected the apartments and cloister -under it, occupying the whole western side of the -great quadrangle. It was at the instance of this -Provost, it should be added, that the King passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -a grant under the broad seal that, for the future, -five of the seven Fellows should be such as had -been educated at Eton School and were Fellows of -King’s College.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A VISIT FROM PEPYS</div> - -<p>In February 1666, in a coach with four horses—“mighty -fine”—Pepys and his wife paid a visit -to Windsor. After seeing the Castle, described -by the famous diarist as “the most romantique -castle that is in the world,” they went on to -Eton. Here Mrs. Pepys—rather ungallantly, -perhaps—was left in the coach, whilst her husband, -accompanied by Headmaster Montague, explored -the College and drank the College beer, both of -which he set down in his diary as being “very -good.”</p> - -<p>By this time the Oppidans had increased to -such an extent that they greatly outnumbered the -Collegers. In 1614 there seem to have been -only forty “Commensalls,” as the Oppidans were -then called, although the more familiar term had -also long been in use; but after the Civil War -they ceased to board and lodge with the Collegers -(the whole school dined in the College Hall as -late as the beginning of the seventeenth century), -and gradually grew in number to such an extent -that in the school list of 1678, out of 207 boys, -no fewer than 129 were Oppidans.</p> - -<p>Zachary Cradock, Provost in 1680, it is said, -owed his appointment to a sermon on Providence, -preached before Charles II., to whom he was -chaplain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>The first Headmaster of Eton of whom any -satisfactory account has survived, was John Newborough, -described as “versed in men as well as in -books, and admired and respected by old and -young.” Newborough numbered many who afterwards -became celebrated amongst his pupils: Sir -Robert Walpole and his brother Lord Walpole of -Wolterton—ancestors of the present writer—Horace -St. John, Townshend, and many other -well-known public men, profited by his tuition. -Of Sir Robert, Newborough was specially fond, -being rightly convinced that he would rise to -eminence.</p> - -<p>Sir Robert loved Eton, and probably one of the -proudest moments of his career was a certain -Thursday in Election Week, 1735, when, with a -number of other old Etonians, he went with the -Duke of Cumberland to hear the speeches in the -College Hall, and heard a number of verses recited, -the great majority of which were in praise of himself. -With Dr. Bland, his old friend, who was -then Provost, he appears to have dominated the -whole ceremony. So much so was this the case -that a dissatisfied Fellow wrote:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>’Tis to be wished that these performances may be lost -and forgott that posterity may not see how abandoned this -place was to flattery when Dr. B—— was Provost, and -when Sir Robert was First Minister.</p></blockquote> - -<p>The Eton authorities, no doubt, were very -proud of Sir Robert, the first Etonian Prime -Minister, and the first of a long series of eminent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -Etonians who were to shed lustre upon the -school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“SMOAKING”</div> - -<p>School life in the seventeenth century was a -totally different thing from what it is to-day; all -sorts of queer usages and ideas prevailed. In 1662, -for instance, smoking was actually made compulsory -for Eton boys. This was during the plague, when, -according to one Tom Rogers, all the boys were -obliged to “smoak” in the school every morning, -and he himself was never whipped so much in his -life as he was one morning for not “smoaking.”</p> - -<div id="Fig_16" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p016.jpg" width="600" height="439" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Eton in the Seventeenth Century, by Loggan.<br /> -<em>Print lent by the Earl of Rosebery, K.G.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>As showing the school life of the period the -following bill for “extras” is interesting. It was -for a boy named Patrick, from April 1687 to March -1688, and bears Newborough’s receipt as Headmaster.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<table class="cost" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Cost"> -<tr><td class="costname">Carriage of letters, etc.</td><td class="costamount">£0</td><td class="costamount">2</td><td class="costamount">4</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">For a bat and ram club</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">9</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Four pairs of gloves</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">2</td><td class="costamount">0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Eight pairs of shoes</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">16</td><td class="costamount">0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Bookseller’s bill</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">14</td><td class="costamount">2</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Cutting his hair eight times</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">2</td><td class="costamount">0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Wormseed, treacle and manna</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">2</td><td class="costamount">8</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Mending his clothes</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">2</td><td class="costamount">8</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Pair of garters</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">3</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">School fire</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">3</td><td class="costamount">0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Given to the servants</td><td class="costamount">0</td><td class="costamount">12</td><td class="costamount">6</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">A new frock</td><td class="costamount bbot"> 0</td><td class="costamount bbot">5</td><td class="costamount bbot">8</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname"></td><td class="costamount">£3</td><td class="costamount">4</td><td class="costamount">0</td></tr> -<tr><td class="costname">Paid the writing-master half a year, due next April 21, ’89</td><td class="costamount bbot">1</td><td class="costamount bbot"> 0</td><td class="costamount bbot">0</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p>The “bat and ram club” was used in connection -with an extremely barbarous custom of hunting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -and killing a ram at election-tide, the poor animal -being provided by the College butcher. So popular -was this brutal sport, that boys summoned home -before the last day of the half wrote beseeching -their parents to allow them to remain and see “ye -ram” die according to custom.</p> - -<p>This ram-baiting appears to have taken its -origin from a usage connected with the Manor -of Wrotham in Norfolk, given to the College by -the founder. At Wrotham Manor during the -harvest-home a ram was let loose and given to -the tenants if they could catch him.</p> - -<p>For many years later the brutal sport continued -to flourish, a ram hunt in the playing fields being -attended by the Duke of Cumberland on Election -Saturday 1730, when he was nine years old. He -struck the first blow, and is said to have returned -to Windsor “very well pleased.”</p> - -<p>Our ancestors held curious views as to the -education of the young, and seem to have seen -no harm in children being familiarised with the -grossest forms of cruelty. Nevertheless the ram-hunting, -after being modified, disappeared before -the close of the eighteenth century. For some years, -however, its recollection was maintained by a ram -pasty served at election time in the College hall. -We may regard the indigestion which must almost -certainly have followed upon indulgence in such a -dish as a mild form of retribution for the tortures -which some of those present had formerly inflicted -upon the poor rams.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<p>In the early seventeenth century Shrove Tuesday -was also marked by a barbarous usage. On that -day no work was done after 8 a.m., and, as in other -parts of England, some live bird was tormented. -The usual practice was for the College cook to get -hold of a young crow and fasten it with a pancake -to a door, when the boys would then worry it to -death.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE FIRST DAME</div> - -<p>Newborough, owing to failing health, resigned -his headmastership in 1711 and died the following -year. He was succeeded by Dr. Snape, a self-made -man, whose mother and afterwards his sister -kept the earliest recorded “Dames’” houses at -Eton. On his resignation in 1720 the school had -reached a total of 400 boys, though some alleged -that one of these was a town boy whose name -Snape had added to form a round sum.</p> - -<p>Under his successor, Dr. Henry Bland, the -numbers further increased to 425, one of whom was -a boy, always playing upon a cracked flute, who -was to be known to posterity as Dr. Arne.</p> - -<p>After the South Sea Bubble had wrought widespread -ruin the school shrank again to 325. Bland -only remained at Eton eight years. Sir Robert -Walpole, who never forgot an Etonian schoolfellow, -presented him with the Deanery of Durham, -besides offering him a bishopric, which was declined.</p> - -<p>Dr. William George then became Headmaster. -He was a very good classical scholar, and some -iambics of his so charmed Pope Benedict XIV. -that he declared that had the writer been a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -Catholic he would have made him a cardinal; as it -was he had a cardinal’s cap placed upon the manuscript. -Dr. George’s reign at Eton came to an -end in 1743, when he was elected Provost of King’s.</p> - -<p>At this period a very curious state of affairs prevailed -at Eton in regard to the appointment of -the teaching staff. The Headmaster was free to -choose his own assistants, whom he paid himself; -but he received numerous fees and presents from -each boy under him. On the other hand, the Lower -Master—who maintained a sort of preparatory -school, to which came boys of very tender age—was -able to sell his assistant masterships, like -waiterships at a restaurant, as he left the fees and -presents to his assistants.</p> - -<p>This is shown by a quaint advertisement which -appeared in the <cite>London Evening Post</cite> of November -9, 1731:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Whereas Mr. Franc. Goode, under-master of Eaton, does -hereby signify that there will be at Christmas next, or soon -after, two vacancies in his school—viz., as assistants to him -and tutors to the young gents: if any two gentlemen of -either University (who have commenced the degree of B.A. -at least) shall think themselves duly qualified, and are -desirous of such an employment, let them enquire of John -Potts, Pickleman in Gracious Street, or at Mr. G.’s own -house in Eaton College, where they may purchase the same -at a reasonable rate, and on conditions fully to their own -satisfaction.—<span class="smcap">F. Goode.</span> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">N.B.</i>—It was erroneously reported -that the last place was disposed of under 40s.</p></blockquote> - -<p>An assistant master, Dr. Cooke, succeeded Dr. -George as Headmaster, but managed the school so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -badly that his tenure of office only lasted two years, -during which time the number of boys decreased, and -Eton fell into some disrepute. Cooke was a very -unpopular man, dowered with a “gossip’s ear and a -tatler’s pen,” and he seems to have possessed most -of the worst faults of a schoolmaster and to -have made many mistakes; this, however, did not -prevent him being given a fellowship when Dr. -Sumner, an able and active teacher, was put in his -place. The efforts of the latter, however, were -able to restore only a modified degree of prosperity -to the school, which had fallen out of general -favour owing to the misrule of his predecessor. A -paragraph in the <cite>Daily Advertiser</cite> of August 11, -1747, shows this:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>King George II. visited the College and School of Eton, -when on short notice Master Slater of Bedford, Master -Masham of Reading and Master Williams of London spoke -each a Latin speech (most probably made by their masters) -with which His Majesty seemed exceedingly well pleased, -and obtained for them a week’s holidays. To the young -orators five guineas each had been more acceptable.</p></blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. BARNARD</div> - -<p>In 1754, however, the ancient fame of Eton -began to revive owing to the appointment of Dr. -Barnard—<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">magnum et memorabile nomen</i>! He was -made Headmaster through the Townshend and -Walpole interests, which were active on his behalf. -Under his vigorous rule the school flourished; 522 -boys, the highest number known up to that time, -being on the list on his promotion to the Provostship -in 1756. Barnard had no patience with fopperies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -in boys, and had occasional “difficulties” with -the Eton “swells” of his day on the point of dress.</p> - -<p>Charles James Fox gave him a good deal of -trouble. His absence at Spa for a year sent him -back to Eton a regular fop, and a very sound flogging -appears to have done him but very little good.</p> - -<p>Dr. Barnard also seems rather to have despised -any tendency towards fine ways in his pupils. -His old pupil, Christopher Anstey, alludes to this -in his <cite>Bath Guide</cite>, in a portion of which a -critical mother, “Mrs. Danglecub,” who has a son -at school,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Wonders that parents to Eton should send</div> -<div class="indentbase">Five hundred great boobies their manners to mend,</div> -<div class="indentbase">When the master that’s left it (though no one objects</div> -<div class="indentbase">To his care of the boys in all other respects)</div> -<div class="indentbase">Was extremely remiss, for a sensible man,</div> -<div class="indentbase">In never contriving some elegant plan</div> -<div class="indentbase">For improving their persons, and showing them how</div> -<div class="indentbase">To hold up their heads, and to make a good bow,</div> -<div class="indentbase">When they’ve got such a charming long room for a ball,</div> -<div class="indentbase">Where the scholars might practise, and masters and all;</div> -<div class="indentbase">But, what is much worse, what no parent would chuse—</div> -<div class="indentbase">He burnt all their ruffles and cut off their queues;</div> -<div class="indentbase">So he quitted the school in the utmost disgrace,</div> -<div class="indentbase">And just such another’s come into his place.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="sidenote">A REVOLT</div> - -<p>The “just such another” was Dr. Foster, who -proved to be the very opposite of Barnard, and -became highly unpopular, in great part owing to -the considerable social disadvantage of his being the -son of a Windsor tradesman. He was tactless and -unfitted for his position, and the school did anything -but prosper under his rule; indeed, the numbers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -dropped to 250. Meanwhile, the boys got quite -out of hand, and several rebellions occurred, -amongst them the famous secession of more than -half the school—160 boys—to Maidenhead.</p> - -<p>One of the ringleaders of the outbreak was -Lord Harrington, a boy of much natural spirit. -He was foremost amongst those who threw their -books into the Thames and marched away. Like -the rest of the rebels he took an oath, or rather -swore, he would be d——d if ever he returned -to school again. When, therefore, he came to -London to the old Lord Harrington’s and sent up -his name, his father would only speak to him at -the door, insisting on his immediate return to -Eton. “Sir,” said the son, “consider I shall be -d——d if I do!” “And I,” answered the father, -“will be d——d if you don’t!” “Yes, my Lord,” -replied the son, “but you will be d——d whether I -do or no!”</p> - -<p>The revolt seems to have completely broken -the Headmaster’s spirit; the school fell in numbers -to 230, and in 1775 he made way for Dr. Davies, -who ruled Eton for twenty years. Unlike his -predecessor, Davies was not unpopular with the -boys, but unfortunately he could not manage his -assistants, with whom he quarrelled, and then -attempted to manage the school alone. At that -time Eton was largely composed of turbulent -spirits, quick to see what glorious opportunities -for riot lay at hand, and before long the unfortunate -Davies was driven out of Upper School,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -pelted with books, and reduced to such a condition -of despair that he was obliged to make terms -with the other masters, who eventually did succeed -in establishing something like order. His subsequent -period of rule was more peaceful.</p> - -<p>During the middle portion of the eighteenth -century a number of still existing Eton institutions -flourished, though generally accompanied by quaint -usages now obsolete. Referring, for instance, to -“Tryals,” in 1766, Thomas James, describing the -school curriculum, says:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>If Boys gain their Removes with honour, we have a good -custom of rewarding each with a <em>Shilling</em> (if higher in the -school, 2/6d.), which is given them by the Dames and placed -to the Father’s account.</p></blockquote> - -<p>This custom, though in 1879 it had fallen into -complete abeyance, was still more or less extant -twenty years earlier; for Mr. Brinsley Richards, in -his most interesting recollections of his Eton days, -mentions that, having gained promotion in Third -Form by handing in three consecutive copies of -nonsense verses, in which there was no mistake, the -Captain of Lower School claimed an old privilege, -and asked that the Lower School might have a -“play at four,” the question also arising whether -the writer of the verses was not entitled to receive -2s. 6d., which he eventually got. As a matter of -fact, had the precedents been strictly followed, one -shilling would have been the reward.</p> - -<p>In the late eighteenth century, the holidays -consisted of a month at Christmas, a fortnight at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -Easter, and the month of August. Then, as now, -the Eton boys enjoyed more half-holidays than -were granted at other schools. In 1776, however, -the usual curriculum was interrupted by a day of -“fasting and penitence” on account of British -disasters in America, the colony beyond the seas, -which, grown into a great country, has since sent -many of her sons to be educated at the old school.</p> - -<p>The last Headmaster of the eighteenth century -was Dr. Heath. During the early part of his -reign he raised the school to 489, but in the last -year the numbers had sunk to 357. It was a very -lax time, and the boys were allowed to do, and -did do, many things which could hardly have been -to the taste of a fond parent.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SCHOOL MAGAZINES</div> - -<p>In 1786 seems to have been started the first -school magazine—the <cite>Microcosm</cite>, the successors of -which have been the <cite>Miniature</cite> (1804), the <cite>Linger</cite> -(edited by G. B. Maturin and W. G. Cookesley, -for collegers only, 1818), the <cite>College Magazine</cite> -(John Moultrie, 1818), the <cite>Etonian</cite> (Praed, 1820), -the <cite>Salt Bearer</cite> (1820), the <cite>Eton Miscellany</cite> (1827), -the <cite>Oppidan</cite> (1828), the <cite>Eton College Magazine</cite> -(1832), the <cite>Kaleidoscope</cite> (1833), the <cite>Eton Bureau</cite> -(1842), the <cite>Eton School Magazine</cite> (1848), the -<cite>Porticus Etonensis</cite> (1859), the <cite>Eton Observer</cite> -(1860), the <cite>Phœnix</cite> (1861), and the still flourishing -<cite>Eton College Chronicle</cite> (1863).</p> - -<p>At various periods since the last date ephemeral -publications have intermittently appeared. These, -however, are scarcely of sufficient importance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -to require mention, the majority having enjoyed -but a very brief existence. The most recent of -these journalistic efforts was the <cite>Eton Illustrated -Magazine</cite>, two numbers of which made their -appearance at the beginning of the present year -(1911). Though a third was announced, the -magazine came to a premature end, owing, it -was said, to the censorship exercised by the -authorities. According to an unwritten law, -no reference must be made to the Eton Officers’ -Training Corps, and owing to this and the suppression -of skits and humorous paragraphs, it was -decided to suspend publication.</p> - -<p>Towards the close of the eighteenth century -one of the most prominent Etonians was -William Windham, in after-life a powerful politician, -and “the darling of Norfolk.” At school -he achieved distinction as a fine scholar, besides -being “the best cricketer, the best leaper, swimmer, -rower, and skater, the best fencer, the best boxer, -the best runner, and the best horseman of his -time.”</p> - -<p>The owner of a splendid estate—Felbrigg Hall—Windham -was the beau-ideal of an English -gentleman, whose merits were recognised alike by -friend and foe.</p> - -<p>Heath was succeeded in the headmastership by -Dr. Goodall, under whose mild and easy-going rule -discipline continued to be lax. Owing, however, to -the warm affection and patronage of George III., -the school continued to prosper, its numbers rising<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -under Goodall to 511. Of fine appearance and -courteous bearing, he is said to have looked every -inch an Eton Headmaster. Devoted to the school -where, as a scholar and assistant master, he had -passed most of his life, he was an ultra-Conservative -in everything which appertained to it; under -his rule no changes took place.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. GOODALL</div> - -<p>Probably this Headmaster never appeared to -better advantage when, after the glorious battle -of Trafalgar, he publicly called up Horace Nelson, -nephew of the immortal admiral, and in a kind -and delicate manner informed him of his heroic -uncle’s death. Though the tears were visible in -the boy’s eyes, Dr. Goodall’s well-chosen words -soothed his grief, and there lurked on his countenance -a smile of delight at the greatest victory ever -gained by this country in any naval engagement -over a gallant foe.</p> - -<p>“There was a pleasant joyousness in Dr. Goodall,” -said one of his pupils, “which beamed and -overflowed in his face; and it seemed an odd -caprice of fortune by which such a jovial spirit -was invested with the solemn dignity of a schoolmaster.” -The blandness and good-nature which -made him universally popular both as Headmaster -and as Provost, were an element of weakness when -he had to cope with the turbulent spirits; and Eton -discipline did not improve under his rule. His -rich fund of anecdote, sprightly wit, and genial -spirit made his society very much sought in days -when those pleasant qualifications were highly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -valued, and he was a great personal favourite -with the king. It was not so much the fault of -the individual as of the age, if he had a profound -respect for the peerage, and could see few defects -of scholarship in his more aristocratic pupils. -<a id="Ref_28"></a>Those were the days, it must be remembered, -when the young peers, sons of peers, and baronets -sat in the stalls in the College chapel, visibly elevated -above their fellows. Then, too, it was not -an uncommon thing for an Eton boy, whose friends -were connected with the Court, to hold a commission -in the Guards and draw the regular pay. -Sometimes, if he obtained an appointment as one -of the royal pages, he was gazetted while yet a -mere child. “I had the honour this morning,” -Goodall is reported to have said on one occasion, -“of flogging a major in His Majesty’s service.”</p> - -<p>With the death of this courteous pedagogue -in 1840 old Eton may be said to have passed away; -whilst he lived many alterations and reforms -were delayed, no change whatever being made -during his term of office as Provost.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A LAST FAREWELL</div> - -<p>Though he has been blamed for not having made -some improvement in the lot of the collegers, -he appears to have enjoyed great popularity at -Eton, and to have been hospitable and benevolent. -Glancing through a copy of <cite>Alumni Etonenses</cite>, -enriched with a number of manuscript notes, appended -by the late Reverend George John Dupuis, -Vice-Provost, the writer came upon an enthusiastic -tribute to the memory of Dr. Goodall, who is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -described as eminent for his talents, his benevolence, -and charity. A somewhat touching eulogy, after -a description of the old Provost’s funeral in the -College chapel, concludes, “Farewell, kind and -good old man.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>II<br /> -OLD CUSTOMS AND WAYS</h2> - - -<p>During George the Third’s reign Eton enjoyed -a special share of royal favour. Dr. Goodall, if -he had been an easy-going Headmaster, was in -many respects an ideal Provost, who notoriously -possessed many of the qualifications of a courtier; -whilst Dr. Langford, Lower Master for many years, -was such a favourite with the King that the latter -used to send for him to come down to Weymouth -and preach. The sunshine of royalty in which -Etonians basked not unnaturally aroused some -jealousy; and one critic—an old Westminster boy—declared -that the vicinity of Windsor Castle -was of no benefit to the discipline and good order -of Eton School.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">GEORGE III. AND THE BOYS</div> - -<p>A constant patron of boys and masters, George -III. hardly ever passed the College without stopping -to chat with some of them. He was very -fond of stag-hunting, and as one of the favourite -places for the deer to be thrown off was between -Slough and Langley Broom, he very often came -through Eton; the appearance of the green-tilted -cart about nine o’clock was certain evidence that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -the King would pass some time before eleven. It -became a custom for the boys to wait for him -seated on the wall in front of the school. He -generally arrived, escorted by his attendants, the -master of the hounds, and some of the neighbouring -gentry, old Davis, the huntsman, with -the stag-hounds, going on before. Occasionally -the King’s beloved daughter, the Princess Amelia, -whose early death he so deeply deplored, came too.</p> - -<p>Near the wall, hat in hand, the Eton boys -greeted their monarch, who almost invariably -stopped to ask various questions of those who -had the good fortune to attract his attention. -These were mostly some of the young nobility, -with whose parents His Majesty was acquainted, -and whom, if once introduced to him, his peculiarly -retentive memory never allowed him to -forget.</p> - -<p>Picking out some boy he would jokingly say:</p> - -<p>“Well, well, when were you flogged last, eh—eh? -Your master is very kind to you all, is -he not? Have you had any rebellions lately, eh—eh? -Naughty boys, you know, sometimes. -Should you not like to have a holiday, if I hear -a good character of you, eh—eh? Well, well, we -will see about it, but be good boys. Who is to -have the Montem this year?”</p> - -<p>On being told he would remark:</p> - -<p>“Lucky fellow, lucky fellow.”</p> - -<p>The royal visit was a general topic of conversation -during the day, and though one of such frequent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -occurrence—nay, almost every week during the -hunting season—still was it always attended with -delight, and the anticipation of something good -to follow. It was highly amusing to hear the -various remarks made by some of the boys who -happened not to have been present at the time of -the royal cavalcade passing, and who, of course, -were anxious to hear what had occurred.</p> - -<p>“Well, what did old George say? Did he -say that he would ask for a holiday for us? By -Jove, I hope that he will, for I want to ride -Steven’s new chestnut to Egham.”</p> - -<p>“You be hanged,” a companion would retort; -“I want to go to Langley to see my aunt, who -has promised to give me syllabubs, the first ‘<em>after -four</em>’ that I can go.”</p> - -<p>Another perhaps wanted to have a drive to -Virginia Water, a favourite excursion with the -boys. Such and the like expectations of holiday -happiness were as often anticipated, and frequently -realised, by the ride of kindly old George III. -through the town of Eton.</p> - -<div id="Fig_32" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p032.jpg" width="600" height="396" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center"><em>Eton College from Crown Corner.</em><br /> -<em>From an eighteenth-century print lent by Walter Burns, Esq.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>In a regulation costume of knee-breeches and -black silk stockings (any holes in the latter being -concealed by ink) the Eton boys going up to -the Castle would stroll about the terrace, which, -like the river, was “in bounds” though the -approaches to it were not. There the King mixed -freely with them, asking any one he did not -know by sight, “What’s your name? Who’s -your tutor? Who’s your dame?” And on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -receiving the answer he would generally remark: -“<em>Very</em> good tutor, <em>very</em> good dame.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MONTEM PARADE</div> - -<p>On the evening of the picturesque “Montem,” -the terrace was the scene of what was called -“Montem parade,” in which the fantastic costumes -of the boys were conspicuous features. On -one occasion George III. kept all the boys to -supper at the Castle, taking care, however, to -forget all about the masters, who were consequently -annoyed. The old king more than once interfered -to prevent Eton boys from being punished, and -actually gave one offender who had been expelled -for poaching in the Home Park a commission in -the Guards.</p> - -<p>William the Fourth also took a great interest -in Eton, as did Queen Victoria, who sometimes -sent for privileged boys. On one occasion she -attended speeches, and all the school considered -it a compliment when she invited Dr. Hawtrey -to tea. In the earlier portion of her reign, whenever -she passed through Eton she was loudly -cheered by the Etonians, and would check the -speed of her carriage out of consideration for -those who ran beside it.</p> - -<p>The memory of George III., as every one knows, -is still preserved at Eton by the celebration of -his birthday—June 4th. What, however, every -one does not know is that the present costume -of the Eton boys—black jackets and tail coats—is -in reality but a sort of perpetual mourning for -the old king.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> - -<p>At the end of the eighteenth century the -costume of an Etonian consisted of a blue coat, -knee breeches, white waistcoat and ruffled shirt, but -a few years later white ducks and pantaloons began -to be worn by Oppidans, though the Collegers were -compelled to adhere to the older dress for some -time longer.</p> - -<p>After 1820 the smaller boys wore jackets and -black slip-knot ties (handkerchiefs they were called -at first), the bigger ones swallow-tailed dress-coats -and spotless white ties. For a considerable period -the latter had no collars, but stiff neckcloths about -a yard long, tied twice round. The first boy who -started a single tie and collar was one of the -master’s sons, and at first the innovation was -regarded with disfavour as much too free-and-easy. -The masters kept a sharp eye upon the boys’ tails, -any one attempting something like a “morning” -coat being at once called to account and told by -his tutor not to “dress himself like a bargeman.” -No objection, however, was made to an indulgence -in studs, bunches of charms, and other jewellery; -and many boys decorated their coats with summer -flowers, in the arrangement of which they showed -some taste.</p> - -<p>Towards the middle of the nineteenth century -morning coats took the place of the swallow-tails. -Since then, with the exception of a diminution in -the height of the top hat, which in the late fifties of -the last century was preposterous, the dress of -an Etonian has remained pretty well unchanged,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -though, of course, from time to time there have -been varying fashions as regards waistcoats. Thirty -years ago the most popular of these were those -made of a sort of corduroy relieved by coloured -silk. At present, I understand, some perturbation -has been caused amongst the upper boys by a -report that the Headmaster proposes to prohibit -every sort of fancy waistcoat; but it is to be hoped -that such an interference with Etonian liberty will -not be carried into effect.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FADS</div> - -<p>The custom of swells wearing stick-up collars, -instead of the turn-down ones worn by their -undistinguished schoolfellows, is now of some -antiquity and appears likely to last.</p> - -<p>Up to about fifty or sixty years ago Eton boys -never wore greatcoats at all. The famous Headmaster, -Dr. Keate, was a warm supporter of this -Spartan habit, which underwent only gradual -modification as time went on; for, even after greatcoats -were allowed the boys very seldom wore them, -and never by any chance put them on unless they -were sure that some of the swells of the school had -given them a lead. So strong is the force of -custom in this matter, that when a few years ago -the Headmaster issued a circular that every boy, -no matter his place in the school, was to wear a -greatcoat whenever he liked, no notice whatever -was taken of it, the old state of affairs continuing -to exist. Another curious usage is that which -ordains that no boy except a swell may carry his -umbrella rolled up, akin to which was the idea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -prevalent thirty years ago, and very likely prevalent -to-day, that turning up the bottom of the trousers -must not be attempted by any but those occupying -a distinguished position in the school.</p> - -<p>Before the era of steam, wonderful costumes -were worn by Eton boys as they started away for -the holidays. On Election Monday the whole road -from Barnes Pool Bridge to Weston’s Yard would -be filled with a crowd of vehicles, whilst round -the corner of the Slough Road, where the new -schools now stand, just beyond Spier’s sock shop, a -number of youths, gorgeously dressed in green coats -with brass buttons, white breeches, top-boots and -spurs, would take horse and ride away to town, -much to the admiration of a crowd of lower boys. -At Spier’s, at the corner opposite the entrance to -Weston’s Yard, Collegers were in the habit of -leaving their gowns when going out of bounds -towards Slough. Shelley as an Eton boy was -a great frequenter of this sock shop, where the -excellent brown bread and butter and a pretty -girl, Martha—the Hebe of Spier’s—as he called -her, made a great impression upon his youthful mind.</p> - -<p>Farther away down Datchet Lane on breaking-up -day, sporting spirits would find traps of various -sorts waiting for them—tandems were occasionally -driven by Eton boys during the school-time, fags -being taken out to act as tigers on surreptitious -drives to Salt Hill or to Marsh’s Inn at Maidenhead, -once a favourite place of resort on account of the -cock-pit there. On one of these outings in a curricle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -a horse bolted, and the driver, brutalized by terror, -ordered his fag to jump on the horse’s back and -saw at his bit. The foolhardy feat was accomplished, -and the horse stopped, but the small boy’s -arms were almost pulled out of their sockets, and -one of them got badly dislocated. According to -one account it was Mr. Gladstone, then an Eton -boy, who tried to rectify the injury before a doctor -arrived.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">TRADITIONS</div> - -<p>The old Eton traditions were essentially aristocratic -in their nature, as was only natural -considering that the vast majority of the boys -sent to the school were of good birth. Whilst -amongst themselves the boys were highly intolerant -of all assumptions of superiority not based upon -the distinctions of good fellowship and physical -prowess, they were rather prone to regard the -rest of the world with easy and good-natured -contempt; indeed they thought themselves the -finest fellows in the world, and little was done -by the authorities to dispel such an idea. According -to a certain standpoint, this, no doubt, was -mere snobbishness, the main object of a favourite -form of modern altruism being to assume that -the lowest is better than the highest, and give -way to everybody no matter who. It is, however, -to be hoped that the latter spirit—the spirit -of defeat, not of victory—will not be allowed -to annihilate that individualism and independence -which has ever been held dear by those educated -amidst Eton’s classic shades. In former days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -no doubt, somewhat extravagant respect was paid -to rank; but it must be remembered that the -aristocracy were at that time the real leaders of the -country, and titles not merely honorary labels -purchased by “plebeian money bags,” through contributions -to their party war chests. For the most -part they then carried with them real territorial -power.</p> - -<p>In its main features, the Eton of our forefathers -was a true democracy, though one enclosed -in an aristocratic frame. In spite of Socialists and -sentimentalists “all men are born unequal,” and -our ancestors were fully alive to the odious affectation -of ignoring social distinctions which always -have existed, and always must exist in every -society.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">BADGE GIVING</div> - -<p>The position of noblemen, as they were called -(this included the eldest sons of Peers), at Eton, -then, somewhat resembled that of the gentlemen -commoners at the University. Like the latter, -they had to pay for their privileges, double fees -being exacted from their parents’ pockets. The -privileges in question, it should be added, hurt -nobody. On the festivals of St. Andrew, St. -Patrick, St. David, and, if in the school-time, St. -George, the Headmaster entertained Scotch, Irish, -Welsh or English boys of high birth at breakfast, -and on such days he and the Lower Master wore an -appropriate “badge,” presented to them by the boy -who was highest in rank of the nation which -was celebrating its patron saint. Not infrequently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -the boy’s tutor was presented with one of these -badges, sometimes quite valuable gifts, costing -five or six pounds apiece. There was no fixed -pattern, the design being always left to the -boy’s own taste, or to that of his parents; care, -however, was taken to introduce the shamrock, -thistle, or leek, according to the day which was -to be celebrated.</p> - -<p>The quaint old usage was formerly quite a -feature of the school-time during which it took -place. As late as 1862 a London newspaper gave -an account of its observance. In that year, on -St. Patrick’s day, Lord Langford, as the highest -Irish nobleman who was an Eton boy at the -time, presented badges of St. Patrick, beautifully -embroidered in silver, to the Headmaster, the -Reverend E. Balston, and to the Lower Master, -the Reverend W. Carter, both of whom wore -these badges throughout the day. On the same -date, according to ancient custom, twenty-four -noblemen and gentlemen, as they were termed—that -is to say, Eton boys—attended a great -breakfast given by the Headmaster.</p> - -<p>Why such an inoffensive and pretty custom -was ever allowed to become obsolete it is difficult -to understand.</p> - -<p>According to one account, the individual responsible -for the discontinuance was the late Duke -of Sutherland, who, when it came to the turn of -his son, Lord Stafford, to present the badge, discouraged -him from carrying out the old usage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -which he branded as mere nonsense. Probably the -cost of the badges contributed to the discontinuance -of their presentation. It seems a pity that -a fixed pattern worth some trifling sum was not -adopted in order to prevent extravagance.</p> - -<p>Though the badges seem still to have been -given up to the middle sixties of the last century, -by 1879—amongst the boys at least—all tradition -of anything of the sort had died away. One -who had been at Eton about 1866 told the -writer that he had a vague remembrance of hearing -of the custom, but it had then ceased to be -observed.</p> - -<p>It should be added that Dr. Hawtrey, in his -monument in the College Chapel, is represented -wearing the badge of Scotland and the motto -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nemo me impune lacessit</i>.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">PRIVATE TUTORS</div> - -<p>Till about 1835, noblemen who came to Eton -usually brought private tutors with them, and -boarded at dames: they were not obliged to have -school tutors. The most distinguished of these -private tutors would appear to have been John -Moultrie, who in 1822 acted in this capacity to -Lord Craven, who three years later presented -him with the living of Rugby. As a youthful -Colleger Moultrie had shown considerable poetic -power, and had he died at an early age speculation -might have been busy as to the great poems which -English literature had lost through his death. His -early reputation rested chiefly on “My Brother’s -Grave,” in the style of Byron’s “Prisoner of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -Chillon,” first published in the College Magazine -and then in the <cite>Etonian</cite>. Often reprinted since, -it is probably the most widely read of his writings. -He was a warm lover of Eton, and paid a fine -tribute of affection to his old school in an introduction -to an edition of Gray. Bringing private -tutors to Eton seems to have entailed considerably -great cost, for the Duke of Atholl told -William Evans that his expenses under this system -were £1000 a year! Dr. Hawtrey, it was, who -made the rule that every boy should have a -school tutor, after which the custom of bringing -private tutors practically ceased. Even in the -sixties, however, it survived in a modified way. -Lord Blandford, Lord Lorne, his brother, Lord -Archibald Campbell, and his cousin, Lord Ronald -Leveson Gower, all had private tutors—the last -three, indeed, lived with one in a house by themselves. -George Monckton, afterwards Lord Galway, -who was at Eton about the same time, also -enjoyed the same dubious advantage.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">CHAPEL</div> - -<p>As has already been mentioned at <a href="#Ref_28">page 28</a>, up -to about 1845, boys who were noblemen, sons of -peers or baronets, sat in the stalls (ruthlessly torn -down during the so-called “restoration” of 1845-47) -at the west end of the chapel, near the Provost and -Headmaster; and, according to custom, a newcomer -distributed packets of almonds and raisins to his -companions in the other seats of honour. Originally, -it would seem, this curious usage was limited -to the Sixth Form boys, who also followed it when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -for the first time they took their places as such. -Considerable obscurity, however, surrounds the -whole subject of “chapel sock,” as it was called; -probably it was the continuance of some medieval -custom, the meaning of which had disappeared ages -before. The eating of almonds and raisins during -divine worship seems very strange to those of a later -generation; in former times, however, it must be -remembered the chapel was sometimes used for -other purposes besides the celebration of services. -The election of the College Fellows, for instance, -took place there, and sometimes some of the -electors tucked themselves up as well as they could -and went to sleep. The general tone of the school -up to about seventy years ago was not very -religious, or, it is to be feared, very reverent; -there was, indeed, too much chapel and too little -devotion.</p> - -<p>Two long collegiate services on Sundays and -whole holidays, and one on every half-holiday, -made the boys tired of the whole thing. New -boys sometimes did take prayer-books in with -them the first Sunday, but never ventured to defy -public opinion to that extent a second time. Some -of the Upper School were nearly nineteen years old, -but amongst them taking the sacrament was almost -unheard of. The chaplain (or “Conduct” as he -was called) often misconducted himself by gabbling -and skipping—whilst the masters, perched in desks -aloft, kept themselves just awake by watching -boys whom they “spited.” The boys themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -had their own resources wherewith “to palliate -dullness, and give time a shove.” Kneeling with -head down, as if in deep devotion, many a one of -them contrived to carve his initials on his seat -without being observed, and very few took the least -interest in the service. As for the interminable -sermons, those they frankly disliked and despised, -the preachers being generally prosy and sometimes -incoherent. As a fellow of some originality said in -one of his quaint discourses, the hearts of the boys -were like gooseberry tarts without sugar, and the -vast majority took little trouble to conceal their -dislike for chapel during the “restoration,” when -the school attended service in a temporary building. -The forms on which they sat there being somewhat -flimsy, every effort was made to smash as -many as possible, in order that boys might have -an excuse for absenting themselves owing to lack -of seats.</p> - -<p>Most of the congregation looked upon the enormously -lengthy services as so much extra school -and took no interest in the responses, for years -uttered by an old clerk named Gray, who was an -Eton institution dating from 1809. With the -lapse of years he had become somewhat deaf, and -consequently made occasional blunders which were -a constant source of amusement. Especially did -his hearers delight in old Gray’s performances on -certain festivals, such as the service for the queen’s -accession, when he generally canonized her twice in -the same verse of the Psalm. “And blessed be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -the name of Her Majesty for ever, and all the -earth shall be full of Her Majesty.”</p> - -<p>On the whole, the service was not conducted in -a very reverent or attractive manner, and the impression -which it would have seemed to convey -was that every one, including the “Conduct,” was -anxious to get through it as quickly as possible. -A great day, however, was Oak Apple day, -when the picturesque old service in memory of -the Restoration of Charles II. was duly gone -through, all the boys sporting oak leaves as a -memento of the Merry Monarch of joyous memory. -On all other occasions, however, the services -proceeded with monotonous and unvarying regularity, -which more or less still prevailed in the -writer’s Eton days thirty years ago, though at -that time they had been considerably brightened -and no irreverence prevailed.</p> - -<p>The chapel bell always stopped five minutes -before the hour, but the Provost and Fellows -never made their appearance till just as the clock -struck; it seemed to be the object of all the bigger -boys in the school to come in as nearly as possible -at the same time as the College authorities did, -yet without running it so fine as to cause a disagreeable -rush at the last moment. These loiterers, -always the “swells” of the school, took their -places just before the entry upon their heels of -the Sixth Form boys, who always headed the -procession, which was closed by the Provost. His -entry was the signal for the commencement of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -the service, and the “Conduct” or chaplain whose -turn it was at once began. Everything was got -through at a pretty good pace, though after about -1840 no slovenliness was to be observed.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A FATAL SQUIB</div> - -<p>From time to time, of course, even in the days -when irreverence was common, the boys were -moved by some extraordinary service which impressed -the most unthinking minds. One of these -occasions was the funeral service of a boy named -Grieve, son of the English physician to the Czar -of Russia, at the commencement of the nineteenth -century. On the 5th of November, then a -day of much riot at Eton, poor Grieve had filled -his pockets with what proved to him the instruments -of death, in order to enjoy the frolics of the -evening, which were suddenly ended when a young -nobleman unluckily “squibbed,” as it was called, his -unfortunate friend. Some of the fireworks which -were in his pocket immediately ignited, which, -communicating to the rest their deadly errand, -exploded, and literally tore off a portion of flesh -from his bones. The poor fellow’s screams were -dreadful, and he died in four days’ time.</p> - -<p>This sad affair threw a gloom over the school -for a long time, and games and sports were almost -forgotten. When the day came for Grieve’s -burial, its awe was strongly augmented by the -solemnity with which the funeral service (that -most beautiful and sublime selection of prayers) -was read by the headmaster, Dr. Goodall; indeed, -among the whole body of upwards of five hundred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -boys, not a dry eye was to be seen. One of these -has left on record how to his dying day he could -never forget the impression made on his mind, -when, with a trembling anticipation of the approaching -procession, he heard the first words, “I -am the resurrection and the life,” and his poignant -emotion as the funeral procession slowly wound -into the chapel and the sky-blue coffin<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> broke upon -his sight.</p> - -<p>An old Eton Sunday institution was “prose,” -held in Upper School, where the Headmaster -would read a few pithy moral sentences. As a -rule it is to be feared these were pearls thrown -before swine, and the swine-herd seemed to feel -disgusted as he threw them. He then gave out -the subjects of exercises for the ensuing week, -and informed the boys what would be the amount -of holidays in it.</p> - -<p>In the old days a number of the Eton masters -were not the earnest men who are to be found in -the school to-day. At a time when the aristocracy -possessed great power, it was not extraordinary -that young noblemen should have been treated -with a great measure of leniency. A certain tutor, -for instance, behaved with great philosophy when -one of his pupils, belonging to a great family, rolled -him down the hundred steps, and reaped the reward -by afterwards rising to a position of high -eminence in the Church. Not a few masters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -were shackled by hide-bound conservatism, whilst -a certain type of eighteenth century pedagogue -was quite unfitted to inculcate learning.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Lo! on a pile of dusty folios thron’d, -</div><div class="indentbase">Her Janus brows with dog’s-ear’d fool’s-cap crown’d, -</div><div class="indentbase">Fenc’d with a footstool, that no step should go -</div><div class="indentbase">Too rashly near, nor crush her gouty toe, -</div><div class="indentbase">Obese Tuition sits, and ever drips -</div><div class="indentbase">An inky slaver from her bloated lips! -</div><div class="indentbase">Unwholesome vapours round her presence shed, -</div><div class="indentbase">Dim ev’ry eye, and muddle ev’ry head, -</div><div class="indentbase">Stunt the young shoots, which smil’d with promise once, -</div><div class="indentbase">And breathe a deeper dulness on the dunce. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>It is not fair to criticise the old Eton masters -too severely, but undoubtedly some were incompetent. -They were quite content that matters -should proceed as they understood they had proceeded -in the past, and thought it no part of their -duty to attempt improvement in the time-honoured -curriculum which for generations had been in -vogue at “Eton School.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A BABY OPPIDAN</div> - -<p>In the early twenties of the nineteenth century, -boys who were mere children, hardly out of petticoats, -were sent to Eton in order that they might -gradually work their way up and get to King’s. -Oppidans also were then very young, a child aged -four and a half being admitted in 1820. At that -time a boy could rise to the top of the school -merely by seniority, due importance not being -attached to hard work and sound scholarship. -The “trials” were then more or less nominal, but -the curious thing is, that in spite of all this Eton -produced some very fine classical scholars, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -the vast majority of the boys were better acquainted -with Latin and Greek than their successors -who went to Eton when a more exacting -curriculum came into force. In 1827 there were -no examinations after the Fifth Form was reached, -nor any distinction attainable except that of being -sent up “for good,” the reward for which then -was a sovereign, and every third time, a book.</p> - -<p>When a master came across some peculiarly -good set of verses he would send them up to the -Headmaster “for good”; in due course the writer -would be called up by the Head, who would -compliment him and read out the lines to the -assembled boys in Upper School. A guinea was -afterwards given to the boy by his dame. Sending -up “for good” seems now on the increase, but in -my own school-days one seldom heard of any one -achieving such a distinction, whilst sending up -“for play” was rarer still. In the past, getting -into Sixth Form did not change an Eton -boy’s life nearly so much as it does to-day. True, -he had his seat in the stalls in chapel, and -came into church later than any one else except -the Provost and Fellows; in Upper School on -certain public occasions, he had also the honour -of making speeches. Beyond this, however, and -the release from shirking the masters, his position -was in no wise altered or improved.</p> - -<p>Fifty years ago Eton in respect to school work -somewhat resembled an oriental state in which -the first symptoms of modernisation are beginning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -to appear. In the main the old classical traditions -commanded a rigid adherence, boys with a -totally insufficient knowledge of Greek being by -a polite fiction supposed to be able to construe -Homer with ease, whilst dunces who could not -write a sentence in correct English were every -week obliged to show up a copy of Latin verses. -The wonder is how all this was ever done at all, -but done it was; and, considering the vast ignorance -of the majority, who frankly regarded the -whole thing with a sort of good-humoured contempt, -done fairly well. Perhaps this was in no -small degree owing to the fact that in almost -every house there was some easy-going clever -boy who, having received a good grounding at a -private school, was able and ready to help his less -gifted schoolfellows.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MAP MAKING</div> - -<p>One of the great features of school work was -the execution of a map once every week, illustrating -various countries as they were in classical -times. Occasionally boys with a turn for drawing -would decorate the margins of their maps with -some fanciful device. As a rule, the masters -extended a good-humoured toleration to this -practice, which often bore some reference to current -events. At the time when a coming prize-fight -was exciting great interest in sporting circles, -a boy decorated the top of his map with portraits -of the two fistic heroes of the day. This, -however, was little appreciated by his master. -A more clever form of decoration was the picture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -of an eight-oar manned by masters and steered -by Dr. Keate which a clever pupil of the Doctor -drew in the middle of the Mediterranean with -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Gens inimica mihi Tyrrhenum navigat aequor</i> -inscribed beneath the boat. All the maps were -shown up on the same day, when “Map Morning,” -as it was called, filled the school yard.</p> - -<p>The old system of sending mere children to -Eton lasted up to about half a century ago. In -1857 boys went still there as young as nine or -ten, nor was it uncommon to see children of -seven or eight in the Lower School. Many stayed -at Eton till they were eighteen, after having -worked their way up from the First Form to -Doctor’s Division, at the rate of two removes a -year—a process which, including three years’ -inevitable stoppage in Upper Fifth, required more -than ten years to accomplish. In the school list -for Election, 1834, Lower School has shrunk to -a very small number. The first part of it, -Third Form, contains but three boys; the second -division, seven. “Sense” and “Nonsense,” which -come next, have but six between them; there -is no one in Second Form, and in First Form -only two.</p> - -<p>Up to the early ’sixties of the last century, -certain divisions of Third Form retained some quaint -old titles—the first sections being called Upper -Greek, Lower Greek, “Sense” and “Nonsense.” -Lower Remove, Upper and Lower Remove in the -Second Form and First Form completed the tail-end<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -of the school. “Sense” and “Nonsense,” it -should be added, received their quaint titles because -boys in the latter were doomed to a sort of -“poetical purgatory,” and only wrote “nonsense” -verses; that is, Latin compositions which scanned -as verse, but contained no ideas; in which respect -the effusions in question resembled the productions -of some living bards.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">LOWER SCHOOL</div> - -<p>When Mr. John Hawtrey was an Eton master, -Lower School, somewhat altering its constitution, -became larger again; the boys in it, mostly very -young, being all together in his house at the corner -of Keate’s Lane, where he kept what was practically -a private school apart. His boys were not allowed -the same amount of liberty as those in other -houses: they took breakfast and tea in common, -and generally played their games in Mr. Hawtrey’s -private field. On reaching the Upper School they -usually went to other houses.</p> - -<p>The curriculum of Lower School was entirely -different from that followed by the Upper Forms. -In “Nonsense” the boys, besides being taught to -write nonsense verses, grappled with intricacies of -the old “Eton Latin Grammar.” After this they -were promoted to “Sense,” when the nonsense -verses were discarded; Lower Greek and Upper -Greek did very elementary work.</p> - -<p>After Mr. John Hawtrey had left Eton to set -up a preparatory school at Aldin House, Slough, -Lower School once more became small. In -1868, just previous to its abolition, it contained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -69 boys. The school list had then ceased to -give the old terms, Upper Greek, “Sense,” and -“Nonsense.” Shortly after First and Second Forms -were abolished and Fourth Form placed under -control of the Lower Master, the Reverend -Francis Edward Durnford, so well known as -“Judy” to several generations of Etonians. Third -Form still continued to exist in the writer’s -day (1879 to 1883); but it then seldom contained -more than two or three boys. Since that time it -has varied in number, sometimes amounting to -ten or a dozen, or, as at present (1911), eight. -It is interesting to note that there are now more -than sixty assistant masters, as compared with -ten in 1834. In the same time the number of -boys at Eton has more than doubled.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SHIRKING</div> - -<p>Up to the end of the nineteenth century there -was a glaring inconsistency in various unwritten -regulations which ruled the Eton boy out of -school. Certain ordinances were seemingly -moulded upon an Hibernian model, many things -being forbidden in theory though allowed in -practice. Up to 1860 everything beyond Barnes -Pool Bridge was considered out of bounds, though -the river and terrace of Windsor Castle were not. -The boys, of course, went up town freely, most -of the shops they used being in the High Street -beyond the bridge, and so the ridiculous custom -of “shirking” grew up. When an Eton boy up -town perceived a master he would get behind a -lamp-post or rush into a shop, the merest pretext<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -of concealment from view being, as a rule, sufficient -to prevent the “beak” from taking any notice -of him, for it was not etiquette for masters to -see boys, provided “shirking” was observed. A -number of extraordinary usages prevailed in connection -with the somewhat senseless custom. For -instance, it was not the thing for a master to turn -round to look out for a boy following behind—the -whole system was ludicrous. One boy, seeing a -master enter a confectioner’s shop, where he was -eating an ice, escaped notice by shutting one eye -and holding up the spoon in front of the other!</p> - -<p>At one time Sixth Form boys had to be -“shirked” like the masters, but this seems to -have been very laxly observed, “liberties,” that -is to say exemptions, being often granted.</p> - -<p>Another great inconsistency was that though -by the laws of the school, no Eton boy might -enter the Christopher, there were very few Etonians -who were not thoroughly acquainted with the -interior of the old town, where at one time Upper -boys had regular dinners which were known to the -whole school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">WINDSOR FAIR</div> - -<p>Though “shirking” as a general rule ensured -a boy’s immunity from punishment when out of -bounds, it ceased to exercise its charm at Windsor -Fair (abolished about 1871), which was strictly -prohibited. Nevertheless, the boys attended it -in flocks, part of their amusement consisting in -dodging the masters.</p> - -<p>It was highly characteristic of the old-fashioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -Eton system, that though the Fair was strictly -forbidden, no efforts at all were made to prevent -boys from going there, though they were often -severely punished if caught. Not a few of the -masters, however, almost openly tolerated such -transgressions, and a few even made a point of -giving their pupils double pocket-money in Fair -week. It must be remembered that at that time all -the masters were old Etonians, having passed their -lives between the school and King’s. Consequently -they were generally imbued with the old -traditions, and had never come across any external -influences likely to alter a point of view adopted -when they themselves were being trained by -masters of an old-fashioned Conservative type.</p> - -<p>At the Fair a large quantity of pocket-money -was expended at the various booths, the keepers -of which, of course, at once recognised an Eton boy, -whom all the professional tricksters of the place -looked upon as their surest game. Every device -was put before him, and all sorts of temptations -held out to induce him to stop and have a trial, -as they called it, of his luck. Cards, rings, coins, -everything in fact was made into an instrument -for gaining a little money during this harvest of -inexperience.</p> - -<p>The rifle gallery, where they gave two shots for -a penny, was a favourite resort, and every stall -which the boys passed, whatever was the sort of -trumpery with which it was filled, formed an -excuse for loitering to examine what there was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -Dolls and knives and penny trumpets and rattles, -all required attention; boxes and brooches were -haggled over, and rings, and even rags, minutely -inspected.</p> - -<p>The Fair consisted of a number of booths -stretching from the Town Hall to Castle Yard. -There were the usual shows, and in the eighteenth -century a bull bait on Bachelors’ Acre, the place -of which, in latter years, was taken by roulette. -This game, of course, run by doubtful characters, -was highly attractive to certain venturesome -Etonians—there was real danger in it, for a boy -caught playing was turned down to a lower form -as well as whipped.</p> - -<p>Though many boys were flogged for going to this -October festival, it was always a source of great -delight to the school, for it gave rise to many jokes.</p> - -<p>It was a common practice for boys to purchase -all sorts of mechanical toys—jumping frogs and the -like—there, and surreptitiously introduce them -upon some master’s desk. On one occasion, a -perfect menagerie was successfully planted on the -table before Dr. Hawtrey’s very nose, and all the -punishment the culprits received for their tomfoolery -was his withering remark, “Babies!”</p> - -<p>As late as the beginning of the nineteenth -century the old Windsor Theatre was often visited -by Etonians. The gallery, indeed, seems to have -been more or less reserved for their use. By the -middle of the century, however, the boys had -long ceased to indulge in this amusement, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -up to the late seventies a considerable number -frequented Windsor races, at that time an open -meeting.</p> - -<p>In 1879, the writer’s first year at Eton, an idea -prevailed that if we could run there and back -without missing Absence, such a visit was not -forbidden. Be this as it may, the writer, with -a friend, did run there and back, the only unpleasant -consequence being the loss of some pocket-money. -In the following year, besides the notice -prohibiting boys from being on the Windsor bank -of the river during the races (which, nevertheless, -did not prevent a considerable number from -crossing over), drastic measures were taken by the -authorities to prevent Etonians from going there -on foot, which, owing to the vigilance of masters -in Windsor, had to be abandoned altogether. -It was no unheard-of thing for a boy in those -days to run to Ascot races and get back in time -for Absence—then at six. This, of course, was -contrived by getting lifts on the way, and though -some were caught and punished, quite a number -indulged in what was to them an exciting adventure. -Two or three got to the races by -assuming a disguise, whilst others were picked up -and hidden in carriages and traps by obliging elder -brothers or old Etonians. One boy—Bathurst by -name—according to current report, so tickled -young Lady Savernake by his impersonation of a -nigger-minstrel that she gave him a £5 piece.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">PIG FAIR</div> - -<p>In Eton itself up to the ’thirties of the last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -century, every Ash Wednesday there was held a -Pig Fair, just outside Upper School; this, of course, -led to great disorder—the boys delighting in letting -the pigs loose, and chasing them in all directions. -At the last of these Fairs in Keate’s time, a boy -actually rode a pig from the gate of Weston’s Yard -to the Christopher, at the identical moment when -Keate came out of Keate’s Lane on the way to -chapel, his gown flying in the wind. Keate took -little notice of this at the time, merely remarking, -“Pigs will squeak, and boys will laugh; don’t do it -again.”</p> - -<p>When Gladstone was a boy at Eton, considerable -brutality existed in connection with the Fair. The -boys, according to old custom, hustling the drovers -and then cutting off the tails of the pigs. Gladstone -boldly denounced such cruelty, and gave -considerable offence by declaring that the boys who -were foremost in this kind of butchery were the -first to quake at the consequences of detection. -He dared them, if they were proud of their work, -to sport the trophies of it in their hats. On the -following Ash Wednesday he found three newly -amputated pig-tails hung in a bunch on his door, -with a paper inscribed:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentquotebase">“Quisquis amat porcos, porcis amabitur illis; -</div><div class="indentone">Cauda sit exemplum ter repetita tibi.” -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>Underneath these lines the future Prime Minister -wrote a challenge to the pig-torturers, inviting -them to come forward and take a receipt for their -offering, which he would mark “in good round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -hand upon your faces.” The pig-baiting, however, -continued till Dr. Hawtrey did away with the Fair.</p> - -<p>Even in the rough old times the life of the -Oppidans was pleasant enough; a totally different -state of affairs prevailing amongst them from that -which flourished in Long Chamber, where small -collegers were so roughly treated that many of them -preferred to be Oppidans till such time as they had -attained a place in the school which would -guarantee them against being bullied.</p> - -<p>Amongst the Oppidans, indeed, there would -seem never to have been any bullying at all, whilst -their health and comfort was looked after pretty -much as it is to-day. Nevertheless, in old days, -they had a far greater knowledge of the stern facts -of life than is at present the case. Their rambles -round the slums of Windsor—visits to the Fair and -contact with the rough and undesirable characters -of the vicinity—taught them what human nature -really is, while the fighting, which was then -recognised, precluded all trace of namby-pambyism. -In those days Eton sent forth few sentimentalists -into the great world, but it undoubtedly furnished -England with the very best type of officer to meet -the enemy in the Peninsular and at Waterloo. -It was an era when the sickening cant of humanitarianism, -born of luxury and weakness, had not yet -arisen to emasculate and enfeeble the British race.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FAGGING</div> - -<p>Fagging at Eton seems never to have degenerated -into brutality. In former times, however, -fags had to perform many services which sound<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -strange to modern ears. An Etonian, for instance, -who had been fag to the future Wellington, it is -said, used to declare that the chief service he had -to perform was that of bed-warmer, for the Fifth -Form then made the Lower boys lie for a time in -their beds to take off the chill. This story, however, -is probably legendary, fagging amongst the -Oppidans having generally been limited to getting -breakfasts from sock shops, taking messages, and -cooking. Fag-masters have seldom been anything -but considerate, and the old joke of sending a green -newcomer (after his first fortnight of immunity -from fagging) to Layton’s, the confectioner on -Windsor Hill, for a pennyworth of pigeon milk, has -probably never been put into practice.</p> - -<p>As long as a hundred years ago cases of bullying -out of College were sternly repressed by the boys -themselves. At that time a great sensation was -caused because a boy high in the Fifth Form flicked -with a wet towel the bare back of his fag, who -complained after Absence to the captain of the -school. The circumstances soon got wind, and -nearly the whole school followed the captain to the -bully’s dame’s, which was Raguineau’s. He was -pulled out of his room, and most soundly horsewhipped -close by one of the large elms, to the -delight of all.</p> - -<p>Though the accommodation was not uncomfortable, -the boys’ rooms were then, as a rule, smaller and -less luxurious than is the case to-day, the windows -being often barred like those of a prison or a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -lunatic asylum. The furniture was all of the -commonest wood, and consisted of a table, two -chairs (well carved by preceding generations), a -bureau—a sort of <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">multum in parvo</i> for books, -clothes, and everything else—and a large press -which turned into a bed; this, small boys always -regarded with misgiving, it being a practice for -raiding parties to shut the occupier up in it.</p> - -<p>In 1825 some of the rooms were as small as five -feet by six, some were not carpeted, and a few of -those on the ground floor were unpleasant owing -to the contents of pails descending from the upper -windows.</p> - -<p>On the fifth of November the Lower boys revenged -their wrongs by making a bonfire of their -Greek grammars in the school-yard; and later in -the year, when the snow came, they would industriously -collect it in the house, in order that -in the evening they might overwhelm some little -fellow and his books with a pile of it.</p> - -<p>Very early rising was then the rule, and in -winter boys got up by candle-light. The Fourth -Form had an infliction called “Long-morning.” -They had to be in school by half-past seven, but -when the masters overslept themselves there was a -“run”—<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">i.e.</i> no school. At the beginning of the -eighteenth century there was an earlier school still, -at six o’clock.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">NICKNAMES</div> - -<p>Nicknames have always been popular at Eton, -many of them enduring in after-life. Thomas -James, who in 1766 wrote an account of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -school, was nicknamed Mordecai and Pasteboard, -whilst the three brothers Pott were called Quart, -Pint, and Gill.</p> - -<p>About the middle of the eighteenth century -nicknames both for masters and boys were very -common. Certain masters were then called Pernypopax -Dampier, Gronkey Graham, Pogy Roberts, -Buck Ekins, Bantam Sumner, and Wigblock Prior. -The following are some boys’ nicknames:—Bacchus -Browning (Earl Powis), Square Buckeridge, Tiger -Clive, King Cole, Mother and Hoppy Cotes, -Damme Duer, Dapper Dubery, Baboon FitzHugh, -Chob and Chuff Hunter, Toby Liddell, Squashey -Pollard, Codger Praed, Hog Weston, Gobbo -Young, and Woglog Calley.</p> - -<p>In old days many Eton nicknames were superior, -and often elegantly classical. At one time a boy -named M’Guire was well known in the school, -because, if prizes had been given for knock-knees -he would have carried off the first prize anywhere. -Homer has a stock of phrases with which he is apt -to fill up his verse, just as lawyers use “common -forms” for their prose. One of these, frequently -occurring in the description of a hero, is <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">phaidima -guia</i> (beautiful limbs), and Paddy M’Guire bore the -appropriate name of “Phaidima Guia.”</p> - -<p>A peculiarly happy nickname was Lapis Lazuli -or Cornelius a lapide, applied to a boy (Newcastle -scholar), in after-life well known to Etonians as -the Rev. E. D. Stone. He recently contributed -some most interesting recollections of Eton to an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -attractive book written by Mr. Christopher Stone, -his son.</p> - -<p>One of the most apt nicknames ever bestowed -on any boy was Verd Antique, applied to the eldest -of five brothers Green, who were at Eton at the -same time—the other four being known as Maximus, -Major, Minor, and Minimus.</p> - -<p>Slang, though fairly prevalent then, in later -years was of a different kind. It would appear that -Eton boys did not then say “burry” for “bureau,” -nor “brolly” for “umbrella,” whilst “footer” for -“football” was unknown. A favourite old Eton -colloquialism, “con,” a word equivalent in its -meaning to chum and pal, has now long died out, -whilst “pec” used for money was about obsolete -thirty years ago. “Scug,” an untidy boy, and -“scuggish,” bad form, words which were constantly -in the mouths of Etonians of two or three -generations back, are now, I believe, much less -used by Upper boys. “Sock,” a term denoting all -kinds of dainties, still exists, but masters are called -“ushers” instead of “beaks.” “Gig,” an old piece -of Eton slang which comprehended all that was -ridiculous, all that was to be laughed at and -plagued, has long ceased to be used.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DAMES AND TUTORS</div> - -<p>A curious and old-fashioned word once in constant -use amongst Eton boys, but now quite -obsolete, was “brozier”—this indicated a boy who -had spent his pocket-money, and was without means -of obtaining “sock.” Brozier was also used in -connection with a disconcerting manœuvre sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -executed by boys at the expense of a dame. -When one of these ladies had gained the reputation -of not providing sufficient food at the usual meals, -and of keeping an ill-stocked larder, an organised -attempt would be made to eat her “out of house -and home”—as the supply of provisions became -exhausted, more would be demanded in the most -pointed manner—this was known as “Brozier my -dame.”</p> - -<p>One of these ladies, possessed of great strength -of mind and resource, being exposed to a determined -attempt of this kind, turned the tide just -as her boys—though nearly choked in the moment -of victory—were winning the battle. Whispering -two words to her maid, the latter disappeared only -to return with an enormous cheese, as strong as -it was big. This the dame cut away liberally, -saying with a smile, that it must not be spared, -for there was another bigger one handy. The -boys never tried a brozier with her again. This -lady had a happy knack of managing her boys, -and after getting them flogged relentlessly on -slight provocation, would, in spite of themselves, -laugh them out of all ill-humour.</p> - -<p>The earliest “Tutor’s” house on record seems -to have been kept by W. H. Roberts, a master -who took a few pupils in 1760. When the -eighteenth century had got fairly under way, -the Oppidans were in all probability distributed -amongst “dames” and tutors in much the same -way as has prevailed in recent times.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of late, however, a dame has come to be merely -the technical name of a house-master who has no -regular “division” or class in the school. They are -often mathematical masters, or teachers of special -subjects. In old days many ladies used to keep -boarding-houses for the boys, which of course -gave rise to the name of “dame.” Miss Evans, -who died in 1906, was the last of these. She was -universally respected and beloved, and occupied -a unique position in Eton life,—her name will long -survive.</p> - -<p>One of the most celebrated dames of other -days was Miss Angelo, a pretty woman who, it -is said, was made an Eton dame owing to the -good offices of George the Fourth when Prince of -Wales. This lady’s pony chaise and fur tippet were -familiar to several generations of Etonians, among -whom she bore the nickname of the Duchess of -Eton. She belonged to the famous family which -furnished four generations of fencing-masters to -the school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">LEAVING BOOKS</div> - -<p>Old Eton was full of peculiar customs—bad, -good, and indifferent. Amongst the latter was -the giving of Leaving-Books. Often a popular -boy would go away from Eton with quite a -fine little library of these, and towards the end of -each school-time there was some rivalry and -excitement about these collections. Williams’ -(the bookseller) shop became resplendent at such -times, the books being all handsomely bound and -mostly gilt, and varying in price from a guinea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -upwards. Eventually, however, the gifts became -absurdly numerous, and in 1868 the custom was -abolished by Dr. Hornby—mainly, I believe, on -the score of economy. It might have been better, -perhaps, to have limited the price of the books, -for these gifts were productive of kindly feelings. -The receiver always shook hands with the donor -and requested him to write his name in the book, -and the collection formed a pleasant remembrance -of Eton in after years, and a memorial of friendship -with schoolfellows.</p> - -<p>Every boy who gave a leaving-book had to be -thanked and shaken hands with. And in the last -week of the Half boys came and wrote their names -in their respective books “after two,” when those -leaving Eton were expected to be in their rooms, -where various dainties were provided. After the -names had been signed there was more shaking of -hands.</p> - -<p>Another old usage, now very rightly abolished, -was “Leaving-Money.” In former days an -Oppidan, as he said good-bye to the Headmaster, -would leave, in an envelope, a sum, the amount -of which depended upon the generosity of his -parents.</p> - -<p>The recognised method for a boy to present -this donation was to hold the envelope inside his -hat, which he would place for a moment on the -table, and so unostentatiously deposit his offering.</p> - -<p>The position of a Headmaster receiving such -gifts was rather awkward, and Dr. Hawtrey, a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -of great delicacy and refinement of manner, used -to ignore them as far as was possible. At the end -of the Summer Half, he would observe, “It’s -rather warm, I think I’ll open the window,” and -as he did so, the envelope was furtively laid upon -the table. When the next boy who was leaving -was ushered in, the same process was gone through, -except that the Doctor would observe, “Don’t -you think it’s rather cold? I think I’d better -shut the window.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE LONG GLASS</div> - -<p>A distinctly bad old custom, which prevailed up -to quite recent times, was the draining of the -“Long Glass” at Tap—that curious Eton institution -where the Upper part of the school are still allowed -to obtain chops, steaks, bread and cheese, beer -and cider. Though the long glass is still preserved, -I believe it has not been used for many a -long year, a circumstance which can arouse nothing -but gratification amongst all sensible people.</p> - -<p>At one time there was “Long-Glass” drinking -once or twice a week during the Summer Half. -Nearly a yard long, and holding a quart, the glass -in question somewhat resembles a coach-horn -with a bulb instead of an opening at the large -end. Aspirants to the honour of draining it -attended in an upper room of Tap after two, each -with a napkin tied round his neck. The object -was to drain the glass without removing it from -the lips, and without spilling any of its contents, -which was extremely hard, for when the contents -of the tubular portion of the glass had been sucked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -down, the beer in the globe would remain for a -moment as if congealed there; and if the glass -was tilted up a little, and shaken, the beer would -give a gurgle and suddenly splutter all over his -face and clothes. Only by holding the Long Glass -at a certain angle could a catastrophe be avoided.</p> - -<p>The results of this rather disgusting practice -were often to be clearly discerned on the coats and -waistcoats of boys emerging from Tap, and it is -to be hoped that, unlike some other old Eton -customs which deserve revival, it will remain merely -a memory of a more intemperate age.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>III<br /> -DR. KEATE—<br /> -FLOGGING AND FIGHTING</h2> - - -<p>At the end of the eighteenth century the Eton -boys had become somewhat difficult to control. -Heath and Goodall had both been Headmasters -fond of comfort and ease, and in order to keep -things from drifting into a state of open disorder, -ignored many infractions of discipline. In consequence -of this they both enjoyed a fair measure -of personal popularity—the parents would seem to -have known little about what was going on, for, -in spite of the continued deterioration in discipline, -the numbers of the school continued to rise.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. KEATE</div> - -<p>When Keate became Headmaster in 1809, he -found himself confronted by a somewhat difficult -situation. A man of unflinching character, he had -at first to suffer for the weakness of his predecessors -and, owing to his stern methods, incurred -unpopularity which it took some time to efface.</p> - -<p>No one who had ever come in contact with -Keate ever forgot him, for his appearance was -exceedingly striking. He was a small man, -little more than five feet high, short-necked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -short-legged, thick-set, powerful, and very active, -whilst within his small frame was concentrated -the pluck of ten battalions. His countenance -resembled that of a bull-dog, and he also -had something of that animal’s mouth. Indeed, -it was said in the school that old Keate could pin -and hold a bull with his teeth. His iron sway -was to many a very unpleasant change, after the -long, mild reign of Dr. Goodall, whose temper, -character, and conduct corresponded precisely with -his name, and under whom Keate had been master -of the Lower School. He was at first, there can -be little doubt, too severe; discipline, wholesome -and necessary in moderation, being carried by him -to an excess; on one morning alone he is said to -have flogged eighty boys. Flogging, indeed, may -be said to have been the head and front, or rather -the head and tail, of his system. Like Dr. Busby, -the famous Headmaster of Westminster School, -he never spoilt the child by sparing the rod. -According to Dr. Johnson, Busby used to call -that instrument of correction his sieve, and declare -that whoever did not pass through it was no -boy for him. Keate, although rigid, rough, and -despotical, was on the whole not unjust, nor -devoid of kindness, a proof of which is that, after -twenty-five years, he retired fairly triumphant, -applauded and respected by the vast majority of -those with whom he had come in contact. During -one of the frequent visits which he paid to Eton -after his retirement, his grim old face was seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -looking down on the boats in Boveney Lock, -whereupon the crews stood up and cheered their -old master with a will.</p> - -<p>Much has been written of the curious appearance -of the famous Headmaster, who has been said -to have worn a fancy dress partly resembling the -costume of Napoleon and partly that of a widow -woman. This was a great exaggeration. It is -true he wore a huge cocked hat; this was not from -eccentricity, but because he was a Conservative -and respected tradition—it had long been the -custom for the Head- and Lower-Masters at Eton -to wear such a head-dress, and Keate merely -retained it after it had become obsolete with the -rest of the world.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE ROUGH OLD DAYS</div> - -<p>As a rule the famous Headmaster wore an angry -look, whilst ever ready to explode into a rage, -though occasionally flashes of unexpected good-nature -would temper his attitude of unwavering -severity. This, however, was seldom, his command -over his good temper being so complete that he -scarcely ever allowed it to appear. On the other -hand he could not be put out of humour, being -always in the ill-humour which he thought fitting -for a Headmaster. He had a fine voice, which he -could modulate with great skill; but he had also -the power of quacking like an angry duck, and the -latter was his almost invariable way of speaking to -boys to inspire respect. His red shaggy eyebrows -were so prominent that he habitually used them as -arms and hands for the purpose of pointing out any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -object towards which he wished to direct attention. -The rest of his features were equally striking in -their way, and highly characteristic of the man.</p> - -<p>Dr. Keate was not devoid of sense of humour. -On one occasion when he had set a certain form -an essay on “<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Temere nil facias</i>,” one boy named -Rashleigh failed to send in any work at all. The -Doctor, who of all men was the last to be trifled -with in such matters, sent for the delinquent, and, -glowering with ferocity, demanded the meaning -of such conduct. The culprit, however, was quite -undismayed and replied, “Sir, you told me yourself -not to do it.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” retorted Keate in tones -of thunder.</p> - -<p>“Why, sir,” replied the boy, “in setting the -theme you said, ‘Do nothing rashly,’ and I have -obeyed you.” This display of ready wit, it is said, -secured the offender’s pardon.</p> - -<p>When Keate assumed the Headmastership the -whole public-school system had remained behind -the age, and many of the manners and customs of -barbarous times still continued at schools long -after home life and manners had become civilised. -There is no reason to suppose that Dr. Keate was -in any way of a brutal disposition or wanting in -natural affections. He had to deal with a very -difficult situation, and it is greatly to his credit -that he maintained the prestige and increased -the numbers of Eton in spite of almost insurmountable -difficulties.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<p>When, for instance, it became clear to the boys -that the easy-going state of affairs which had prevailed -under Dr. Goodall had come to an end, the -school was thrown into a state of latent rebellion. -One of the first innovations imposed by Keate was -to impose an “absence” the evening after what -was then known as “long church.”</p> - -<p>The first time this was put into force the whole -school booed the Headmaster as he opened his -mouth, and it took him two hours to get through -calling the “absence,” though various tutors did -all they could to help him detect the boys who -were the ringleaders of the disorder. After trying -to discover the principal culprits and failing, Keate -finally determined to punish the last remove of -the Upper Fifth and the whole of the Lower Fifth -(there was then no Middle Division), whom he -considered responsible for the outbreak, by making -them attend a five-o’clock “absence.” Some ninety -boys absented themselves, or rather hid behind -the trees in the playing fields where this “absence” -was called, and purposely did not answer their -names. The situation was grave, and at first it -seemed likely that all of these rebels would be -expelled; eventually, however, Keate determined -to be more lenient and merely announced that -he would “flog the lot.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SWISHING WHOLESALE</div> - -<p>When the first batch came up for punishment -in the library a scene of riot took place, and as the -first boy knelt down on the block a shower of eggs -smashed round Keate; in fact, after three victims<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -had suffered, the Headmaster’s clothes had got into -such a state owing to the unsavoury missiles hurled -at him, that he had to go home and change. On -his return, however, he was seen to be accompanied -by a number of assistant masters, and owing to -their aid in keeping order he had finished swishing -the whole of the ninety boys by eight o’clock that -evening.</p> - -<p>The masters must have had their work cut out -to subdue the insubordination of such turbulent -boys. Though the number of these boys was close -on 500—later, from 1821 to 1827, it varied between -528 and 612—at no time were there more than -nine assistants, including the Lower Master. -While some of the forms in the Lower School only -had twenty or thirty boys, certain divisions in the -Upper School were of quite unwieldy size. In -1820 Dr. Keate’s own division had swelled to 198. -He then relieved himself by creating the Middle -Division of the Fifth, but he continued to keep -about 100 boys under his own charge at the end of -Upper School, where much disorder prevailed.</p> - -<p>All sorts of jokes and tricks were indulged in, -and about 1810 it became a regular practice during -the Winter Half to try and put out the candles in -the two great chandeliers. There had originally -been three of these, but according to tradition the -third had been broken in the great rebellion some -thirty years before. On one occasion a huge stone -that was shied at the chandelier went within an -inch of Keate’s head and cracked the panel behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -him. Having somehow got to know the culprit, -Keate let it be known that it was a boy at a certain -dame’s, at the same time declaring that the only -chance the boy had was to give himself up and -trust to his leniency; otherwise he would be expelled. -The boy was George Dallas, a straightforward -fellow. He immediately went to Keate, -confessed, and solemnly assured the Doctor that he -had never intended to hurt him. Keate said he -believed him, but of course Dallas must know that -the lightest punishment he deserved was a good -flogging, and that flogging he got.</p> - -<p>A large part of the boys’ time seems to have -been spent devising ingenious forms of annoying -Keate, who sat enthroned in a spacious elevated -desk, enclosed on all sides, like a pew, with two -doors, one on each side. One fine morning he -entered Upper School, and, going to his desk, tried -to open one door, and found it was fastened. He -went round, grinning, growling, and snarling, to -the other side; the door there had been screwed -up too. The desk was up to the breast of a -tall man and as high as Keate’s head; nevertheless, -laying his hand on the top of it, he -lightly vaulted in, the feat being saluted with -loud cheers and a hearty laugh. This made -the Doctor more angry than ever. “I will -make some of you suffer,” he said, and he did; -for the next day, to the general astonishment, he -called up all the boys who had been concerned -in the screwing up and soundly flogged them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -The secret of this was that Cartland, Keate’s -servant, suspecting that mischief was afoot, secreting -himself between the ceiling and roof of Upper -School, had witnessed the whole screwing-up -process through the rose from which hung a -chandelier, and carefully noted down the names of -the boys concerned.</p> - -<p>Another time a huge mastiff was put under -Keate’s seat, but the Doctor was fiercer than the -dog, which ran away, frightened at his angry gaze.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THIS ISN’T A GIRLS’ SCHOOL</div> - -<p>One of the old school, Keate had no sympathy -with innovations. Though he himself is -said to have always carried an umbrella in sunshine -as well as rain, he could not bear to see a boy with -one. “Wet, sir? Don’t talk to me of weather, -sir,” he would say; “you must make the best of it. -This isn’t a girls’ school.” By way of paying their -Headmaster out for such a remark, a party of -boys once made an expedition to the neighbouring -village of Upton, took down a large board inscribed -in smart gilt letters “Seminary for Young -Ladies,” and fixed it up over the great west -entrance into the school-yard, where it met the -Doctor’s angry eyes in the morning.</p> - -<p>In spite of his stern disposition and rough -ways Keate was highly sensitive as to ridicule, -and especially disliked attempts to caricature his -appearance.</p> - -<p>When the informer in the celebrated case of -the Cato Street conspirators—an Italian image-man -by trade, and a very clever one—made his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -appearance at Eton one day with a tray full of -plaster busts of the well-known Doctor, cocked -hat and all, Keate was very much annoyed to find -that his likeness was selling like wildfire amongst -the boys. There seemed to be only one way of -preventing the wholesale popularisation of his -dumpy figure, so, buying up what was left of the -Italian’s stock, he had the figures taken to his -backyard and broken up.</p> - -<p>One or two boys had the temerity to personate -Keate. Lord Douro, son of the Iron Duke, dressed -in an exact copy of the Doctor’s robes and hat, -actually painted the Headmaster’s door red one -night, to the amazement of a few persons who saw -him.</p> - -<p>In some verse commemorating this feat, the -watchmen were supposed to be summoned before a -conclave of masters the next morning to describe -what they had seen:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentthree">“We both last night -</div><div class="indentbase">Saw him—the Doctor—in his own cocked-hat, -</div><div class="indentbase">His bands, his breeches, and his bombasine, -</div><div class="indentbase">Paint his own door-post red.” Then great the wrath, -</div><div class="indentbase">And great the marvel of that conclave; all -</div><div class="indentbase">Turned their cold eyes on him, their dreaded chief, -</div><div class="indentbase">Convicted on such damning evidence -</div><div class="indentbase">Of this irreverend deed. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>Keate never discovered the culprit till years -after when, as a Canon of Windsor, he was entertaining -Lord Douro at dinner. The latter, speaking -of Eton days, alluded to the door-painting -incident, and was about to make a full confession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -when Keate became so red in the face that he -thought it wiser to desist.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AMATEUR FLOGGING</div> - -<p>Lord Abingdon was another Eton boy noted -for his mimicry of Keate; indeed, dressed up in -a cocked hat and gown made expressly for him, -his disguise was so perfect that he actually went -round one night and called “Absence” at the -different dames’ houses without being detected. -Years later, after a dinner-party at his home in -Oxfordshire, his Lordship would dress up as Keate, -and, birch in hand, enact a scene in the “library” -for the edification of visitors. On one of these -occasions he persuaded one of them to “go down” -on a block, made in exact imitation of that at Eton, -which stood in the room, whilst two others “held -him down,” and the story goes that the noble host -pitched into his guest with such hearty goodwill -that, when allowed to get up, the latter was so sore -in more ways than one that he called for his carriage -and drove off in a great rage.</p> - -<p>Though boys mimicked and laughed at Keate -behind his back, very few had the courage to stand -up to him face to face. One of the few, however, -who did so was Charles Fox Townshend, the -founder of “Pop,” who, “staying out” on account -of indisposition, refused to write out and translate -the lessons of the day, in consequence of which he -was in due course summoned to the awful presence -of the redoubtable Headmaster. In the well-known -tones of thunder which made four generations -of Etonians tremble, Keate demanded the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -meaning of such conduct. “Don’t speak so loud, -Dr. Keate,” replied Townshend, “or you will make -my head ache. If I had felt fit to write out and -translate the lesson I should have gone into school, -but I did not feel well enough, so I stayed out.” -The famous Headmaster, it is said, was so dumbfoundered -by the readiness of the delinquent’s reply -that he let him go without any punishment.</p> - -<p>On the whole, Keate does not seem to have been -an ill-natured man, for, in spite of his occasional fits -of ferocity, he was held in considerable esteem by -a large number of the boys. They bore him no -ill-will for the floggings he had caused them to -undergo, and, when he left Eton in 1834, presented -him with a gift testifying their appreciation of his -merits. This consisted of a silver reproduction of -the Warwick Vase, on the pedestal of which was -inscribed—</p> - -<p class="center smallfont"> -PRESENTED<br /> -BY THE EXISTING MEMBERS OF ETON SCHOOL<br /> -TO THE REVD. JOHN KEATE, D.D.<br /> -ON HIS RETIREMENT FROM THE HEADMASTERSHIP<br /> -JULY 30, 1834,<br /> -AS A TESTIMONY OF THE HIGH SENSE THEY ENTERTAIN<br /> -OF HIS EXQUISITE TASTE AND ACCURATE SCHOLARSHIP<br /> -SO LONG AND SO SUCCESSFULLY DEVOTED<br /> -TO THEIR IMPROVEMENT<br /> -AND OF THE FIRM YET PARENTAL EXERCISE<br /> -OF HIS AUTHORITY<br /> -WHICH HAS CONCILIATED THE AFFECTION<br /> -WHILE IT HAS COMMANDED THE RESPECT OF<br /> -HIS SCHOLARS. -</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AN AMUSING DINNER</div> - -<p>Keate was in Paris soon after Waterloo, and -there he met a number of old pupils to whom he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -had administered castigations. The latter determined -to give their former pedagogue a dinner, -which in due course took place at the Restaurant -Beauvilliers, then one of the best dining-places in -Paris, the hosts being Lord Sunderland, Lord -James Stuart, and other scions of the aristocracy. -The banquet was a most jovial one, and Keate did -full justice to its excellence, drinking every kind of -toast, and making a most suitable speech, which -appropriately ended with “Floreat Etona.” After -dinner a good deal of chaff began to fly around the -table, and the guest of the evening was told of -many Eton happenings which he had never heard -before. For the first time he learnt of how two -of his masters had secretly contrived to go up -to London every Saturday in order to dine with -Arnold and Kean at Drury Lane, surreptitious -suppers at the “Christopher” were described, whilst -tales of tandem expeditions, fights with bargees, -and poaching excursions in Windsor Park reached -his somewhat astonished ears. The old man, -however, took everything in excellent part, merely -remarking that all he had heard but inspired him -with regrets that he had not flogged the assembled -company as much as they appeared to have -deserved. On leaving, he thanked his hosts in -a few well-turned phrases, and, parting from them -on excellent terms, went home amidst loud cheers.</p> - -<p>No doubt he owed a good part of the popularity -which, in spite of his sternness, he eventually obtained -to the attractions of Mrs. Keate, who was a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -fascinating woman. In the year 1814, during a -match with Epsom, the Eton champion, John -Harding, scored 74—an extraordinary number -in those days, when the bowling generally beat -the bat. It called forth a poem from a clever -Colleger (“Marshal” Stone), in which were the -following lines. The Doctor saw them and was -vastly amused:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">No vulgar wood was the bat of might -</div><div class="indentbase">That swung in the grasp of Harding wight; -</div><div class="indentbase">No vulgar maker’s name it wore, -</div><div class="indentbase">Nor vulgar was the name it bore. -</div><div class="indentbase">It was a bat full fair to see, -</div><div class="indentbase">And it drove the balls right lustily; -</div><div class="indentbase">Without a flaw, without a speck, -</div><div class="indentbase">Smoothe as fair Hebe’s ivory neck— -</div><div class="indentbase">It was withal so light, so neat, -</div><div class="indentbase">The Harding called it—Mrs. Keate. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>When the allied sovereigns were present at a -fête in the gardens at Frogmore in 1815, the King -of Prussia is said to have gone up and kissed -Mrs. Keate, making the excuse of her remarkable -likeness to his Queen.</p> - -<p>All sorts of stories have been told of Keate’s -fondness for wielding the birch. “Remember, -boys,” he is once supposed to have said, “you -are to be pure in heart, or I’ll flog you till you -are.”</p> - -<p>He certainly did castigate an enormous number -of Etonians, amongst them, it is said, half the -Ministers, Secretaries, Bishops, Generals, and -Dukes of the earlier portion of the nineteenth -century; but, nevertheless, the boys in his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -division were usually punished by having to write -out impositions, and were not flogged except for -some very flagrant offence, such as intoxication.</p> - -<p>Keate, as Headmaster of Eton, it must be -remembered, was chief executioner, and had to -do justice when a boy was complained of by any -assistant master.</p> - -<p>The school had drifted into very slack ways, and -Keate, who possessed a very intimate knowledge -of Eton, realised that leniency would merely make -matters worse. Consequently he rather favoured -drastic measures, and in spite of adverse criticism -his system had a good effect. It has often been -urged that it failed because the boys at times -openly defied his authority. In the earlier days -of his rule this was occasionally the case, and gross -insubordination prevailed, though it never reached -such a point as it had attained in the days of -Keate’s predecessors. On the other hand, when -the stern old Headmaster handed over the reins -of power to Dr. Hawtrey, the school had become -quite orderly and controlled.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">NAPOLEONIC METHODS</div> - -<p>Though, as has already been said, not much -given to flogging boys under his immediate control, -he was a firm believer in the efficacy of the birch -for almost every kind of offence, and was quite -ready to be a ruthless executioner in order to -facilitate the work of his subordinates.</p> - -<p>His methods were entirely Napoleonic, and -when flogging boys who had committed some -unusually heinous offence, by way of making an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -impression on their minds as well as their bodies, -he used to accompany his infliction of punishment -with a number of cutting remarks punctuated by -strokes of the birch: “A disgrace to your friends” -(swish, swish), “Ruin to your parents” (swish, -swish, swish, swish), “You’ll come to the gallows -at last!” and so forth.</p> - -<p>Flogging at Eton was once described by the -<cite>Edinburgh Review</cite> as “an operation performed on -the naked back by the Headmaster himself, who is -always a gentleman, and sometimes a high dignitary -of the Church.”</p> - -<p>The Eton boys of the past took their floggings -very lightly. One of them having, it is said, been -flogged by the Headmaster by mistake for another -boy, though he knew that he had done nothing to -deserve his castigation, made no attempt whatever -to escape it. When, however, the real culprit -was discovered an investigation took place, and the -flogged one’s tutor then asked, “Why did you not -explain to the Headmaster that you had never been -complained of?”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir,” was the reply, “I have been complained -of so often that once more or less didn’t -seem to matter much; besides, I thought that very -likely some master I had forgotten about might -have complained of me after all.”</p> - -<div id="Fig_82" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p082.jpg" width="600" height="421" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Headmaster’s Room, showing Swishing Block and Birches.</p></div> -</div> - -<p>Like many others, Fielding, a typical Englishman -of a long-past age, was in after life proud of -having been flogged. Alluding to Eton in his -introduction to the thirteenth book of <cite>Tom Jones</cite><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -he says, “Thee in thy favourite fields, where the -limpid, gently rolling Thames washes thy Etonian -banks, in early youth I have worshipped. To thee, -at thy birchen altar, with true Spartan devotion, I -have sacrificed my blood.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">REFUSING TO GO DOWN</div> - -<p>In later times, however, a certain number of -boys have shown an invincible dislike of being -birched, and some have actually preferred to -undergo expulsion rather than kneel at the block. -The 4th Marquis of Ailesbury (notorious for his -follies) when a boy at Eton, having been complained -of, ran away in order to avoid a punishment -to which he declared he would never submit. -This, I believe, happened twice, after which he was -at last obliged to confront the Lower Master, who -administered a certain number of strokes. On -rising from the block, however, the irrepressible -culprit made use of such language that his sojourn -at Eton was at once cut short. In most cases, -however, fear of expulsion has generally made those -summoned to the block submit. A peculiar case -was that of a boy high up in the school, and a well-known -swell at athletics, who, going up to Oxford -in order to matriculate, instead of returning to -Eton directly the examination was over, outstayed -his leave and remained for some days amusing himself -with a Christchurch friend. As a consequent -result, when he did return the voice of a praepostor -was heard inquiring “Is —— in this division? He -is to stay.” The culprit, who considered himself a -grown man, at first stoutly declared that nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -would induce him to undergo a flogging, and it -required a good deal of persuasion to make him -realise that continued resistance would entail his -going away from Eton without a leaving book; -that is to say, practical expulsion, which is liable -to injure a boy’s prospects in after life. Eventually, -concluding that it would be best to submit, he duly -paid the required visit to the library, where Dr. -Balston officiated in a most sympathetic but -efficient manner.</p> - -<p>In rougher days, scapegraces used to make a -flogging the occasion for all sorts of jokes. One -boy, for instance, got a friend who had some knowledge -of art to paint a rough portrait of the Headmaster -on that portion of his body which has -always been associated with the punishment of -youth. When the Head was about to deliver his -blows he was at first considerably taken aback by -being confronted by his own likeness upon such an -unconventional background. However, he rose to -the occasion, and, with the aid of a couple of -birches, completely obliterated all trace of any -portrait.</p> - -<p>In the case of big boys there is some humiliation -in being flogged. A certain captain of the boats, -who had indulged too freely in champagne, a very -tall and powerful young man, about to be flogged -by Dr. Hawtrey, begged hard that he should -receive his punishment in private, and thus escape -the degradation of being observed on the block by a -large crowd of boys looking through the open door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -The Headmaster, however, would not hear of this -for a moment, declaring that publicity was the -chief part of the punishment.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SABBATH CASTIGATION</div> - -<p>When Election Saturday was in full swing, a -certain number of boys made a point of indulging -in insubordination, thinking that so close to the -end of the half they would escape punishment. -Some of the masters, however, made a point of -punishing irregularities at such a time with ruthless -determination, and never failed to complain of -any boy whom they found to be intoxicated on -Election Saturday, with the result that floggings -on the Sunday (the boys then went home on the -Monday) were not infrequent.</p> - -<p>In order to castigate such offenders. Dr. Goodford -would be ready in his room on Sunday, -where he would sometimes attend at 10.30 at -night, in order to flog boys going by an early train -next day. Even those leaving Eton altogether -had to submit, for otherwise they would have been -ranked as being expelled. Mr. Brinsley Richards -tells of a boy, nearly six feet high, and with a -moustache, who debated in agony of mind whether -he would take a swishing on the night before leaving -the school. He had actually got a commission -in the cavalry; his uniforms were ordered, and he -was to join his regiment in ten days; but on -Election Saturday night he got uproariously drunk, -was seen by a strict master, and put in the bill. -He duly surrendered to his fate, received twelve -cuts with “two birches,” and the following day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -took leave of Dr. Goodford on the pleasantest -terms possible.</p> - -<p>Dr. Goodford seems to have taken a genial -view of flogging; on the morning of one St. -Andrew’s Day he swished a Scotch boy who was -coming to breakfast with him, and greeted him -later on at that meal with a cheery “Here we are -again!”</p> - -<p>An amusing story used to be told of a boy just -about to leave Eton who, having refused to be -flogged, on his arrival at home discovered, to his -horror, that his refusal to bow to constituted -authority would prevent him from being allowed -to enter the career upon which he had set his -heart. Hoping to put matters right, he at once -set out for Eton, only to find on his arrival there -that the Headmaster had gone to Switzerland. -The ingenious youth, determined to get flogged, -then somehow procured two birches and hurried -off to Geneva, only to find that the Head had gone -on to Lucerne. To that city he too followed, but, -missing the pedagogue whom he sought, again had -to continue his pursuit, which eventually ended in -the refectory of the Monastery of Mont St. Bernard, -where he eventually persuaded the Doctor to administer -the sought-for flogging amidst a circle of -edified monks. The ordeal over, the Headmaster -was presented with the leaving fee, which was then -customary, in return handing the relieved youth a -leaving book in the shape of a <cite>Guide</cite> to the Alps, -which happened to be the only volume procurable.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">A SWISHING TRADITION</div> - -<p>During the writer’s school days at Eton, though -flogging was in full swing, the castigations administered -by Dr. Hornby—and he speaks from personal -experience—were not severe. On the other hand -the Lower Master, the Rev. J. L. Joynes, tempered -the severity of his floggings according to the -offence which they were intended to correct. On -one occasion the writer remembers him laying -with a will into a boy who is now a distinguished -officer. The latter, however, although he received -some thirty-two strokes, administered with two -birches (the first one after a time became useless -owing to the force with which it was used), never -flinched in the least, though this “real flogging” -must have occasioned considerable pain, very -different from the mild sensation produced by -the usual ones—often little more than a disagreeable -form. At that time the tradition still prevailed -that the wielder of the rod whilst “swishing” was -not allowed to lift his hand above his shoulder. -Though, as far as the writer can remember, this -rule was adhered to by the executioner, he has -since heard that the sole foundation for the idea -was a curious underhand motion of the right arm -peculiar to Dr. Hawtrey which his successors seem -to have copied.</p> - -<p>From time to time more or less public protests -have been made against the use of the birch, which -has always been an object of detestation in the eyes -of sentimentalists and professional humanitarians.</p> - -<p>In 1856 a long correspondence appeared in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -<cite>Times</cite> dealing with the question of flogging. This -arose out of the case of a boy named Morgan -Thomas, whose father upheld him in not submitting -to be flogged.</p> - -<p>A report that in future no Upper boys will be -flogged, recently called forth some controversy in -the newspapers, most old Etonians being, it would -appear, of opinion that the abolition of the birch -and the substitution of other punishments, including, -I believe, caning, are to be deplored. The -inevitable sentimentalist, however, was of course -well to the front, declaring that “birching, or even -caning, is out of date, it being much better to -bring boys up to do the right thing and to avoid -doing the wrong thing from a sense of honour and -pledge.” Apparently this gentleman was under the -impression that such a method of education was a -new and entire innovation!</p> - -<p>In future it appears that amongst Upper -boys, flogging is to be supplanted by something -resembling the painful process once known as a -“College hiding.” At the time when Oppidan -Fourth Form boys used to delight in jeering at -Tugs, a good many, being captured by Collegers, -were dragged off and given a number of cuts with -a cane—a far more painful ordeal, it was said, than -an ordinary swishing by the Headmaster.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ABDUCTING THE BLOCK</div> - -<p>On the evening of the 12th May 1836 three -old Etonians—Lord Waterford, Lord Alford, and -Mr. J. H. Jesse, who had been entertaining some -boys to dinner at the Christopher after a boat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -race against Westminster, being in particularly high -spirits, determined to have some fun before driving -back to town. Not being able to get into Upper -School (where the block was then kept) by the -door, Mr. Jesse and Lord Waterford, at considerable -risk, crept along the narrow stone ledge -over the colonnade, and, entering Upper School -by an open window, forced the lock of the door -from within, and carried their prize off in triumph, -in spite of an attempt to stop them on the part -of the College watchman. The trophy, I believe, -was never returned, and is still in existence at -Curraghmore.</p> - -<p>Though the abduction of the block was considered -a capital joke, a more serious view was -taken of another exploit afterwards perpetrated -by Mr. Jesse. During Ascot week of the following -year he contrived to wrench the sceptre from the -hand of the statue of the founder in School -Yard and get away with it. This aroused a -very strong feeling of indignation amongst boys -as well as masters, and the emblem of sovereignty -was, in consequence, soon restored with an apology. -This is the only time that the bronze effigy of -Henry VI., erected by Provost Godolphin in the -early years of the eighteenth century, has ever been -molested.</p> - -<p>The block in Lower School has also had its -adventures. In or about 1863 a King’s scholar, -Lewis by name, during some disturbance abstracted -it—according to tradition to save it from being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -destroyed during some disorder. Whatever may -have been the truth of the matter, he kept it, and -when, a short time later, he obtained a Postmastership -at Merton, took it away to Oxford with the -rest of his belongings. On his death this block -passed into the possession of Dr. Lewis, who lived -in Glamorganshire; and when this gentleman -died, Mr. F. T. Bircham, obtaining it from his -widow, handed it back to the Headmaster of Eton -on May 3, 1890.</p> - -<p>The venerable, though somewhat gruesome relic -in question is of some historical interest, for on -it are carved a number of names, amongst them -Milman, Lonsdale, Routh, Wellesley, and H. -Hall (1773). It is to be hoped that, should Lower -boys ever cease to need the discipline of the birch, -this relic of sterner days will be kept in Lower -School, with the old-world appearance of which it -so well accords.</p> - -<p>The present block, the one used in the library, -was, I believe, abducted some three or four years -ago, two boys having carried out the extraordinary -feat of climbing into Upper School through a -window and smuggling out the awesome relic -of torture, which they eventually sent to the -authorities of the British Museum, who returned -it to the authorities of the school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE OFFICIAL BIRCHMAKER</div> - -<p>An important functionary in connection with -Eton castigations has always been the Headmaster’s -servant, rod-making being one of his traditional -functions. Under Keate the office was held by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -Cartland, opprobriously nicknamed “Sly” by -Collegers, who abhorred him. In Dr. Hawtrey’s -day came Finmore, who, after the former’s death, -continued in office as servant to Dr. Goodford. Part -of the duties of the office lay in seeing that there -were always at least half a dozen new rods in the -cupboard of the “library,” Dr. Goodford being apt -to get very angry if an execution had to be adjourned -for want of birches. A dozen new rods -were supposed to be at hand in the cupboard every -morning, for there was no calculating the number -of floggings that might be inflicted in a day. -Finmore used to make the rods at his own house, -with the help of his wife, and brought them to -the library quietly after Lock Up, or in the -morning before early school. Sometimes, however, -when the supply of rods ran short Finmore had -to bring in fresh birches in the middle of the -day, which, for several reasons, was a somewhat -hazardous task.</p> - -<p>One afternoon, after three o’clock school, when -there were only three birches available, six boys -were up to be flogged. The Head flogged three -of the culprits and adjourned the others till six -o’clock, at the same time ordering the Sixth Form -praepostor to be sure and tell Finmore that the -cupboard must be replenished before six. Some -Lower boys, however, getting wind of this, and hearing -that Finmore was bound to come to the library -between four and five, lay in wait for him, and in -due course espied him hovering near the top of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -Keate’s Lane, empty-handed, but walking suspiciously -near to a grocer’s cart making its -way towards Weston’s Yard. Suddenly a shout -was raised, and the crowd of boys, scampering off, -stopped the cart just as it was turning into the -yard, surrounded it yelling, and extracted from it -six new birches wrapped in a cloth. Finmore, -breathless and almost choking with emotion, vainly -tried to save his rods. Half a dozen boys, -however, soon ran off with one apiece, the unfortunate -official being left to bewail his evil fate. -In Dr. Hornby’s day the custodian of the birches -was White, a spruce, neatly-dressed figure whom -many old Etonians will still remember.</p> - -<p>He it was who, in consideration of a fee of a -guinea, saw that the names of boys leaving Eton -were cut in Upper School. For a consideration -he would also supply birches tied up with blue -ribbon to any one desirous of carrying away such -grim mementoes.</p> - -<p>Whilst the block, for Lower boys at least, -remains one of the features of Eton, fighting, -once a characteristic institution of the school, has -long disappeared, having seemingly fallen out of -favour in the late fifties of the last century.</p> - -<p>In the period preceding Waterloo the combats -were fierce and frequent; there was one nearly -every day, and so determined were the Etonians -of that era that there is a case on record of two -boys rising at six in the morning to begin the -conflict, and sparring away for three hours!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">“SIXPENNY CORNER”</div> - -<p>Whilst the Oppidans, according to immemorial -custom, settled their differences in “Sixpenny -Corner,” the Collegers fought their battles in Long -Chamber. An unwritten code decreed that when -a King’s scholar wished to fight he must ask permission -of the Captain of the school to be allowed -to do so after Lock Up, and this, as may be -imagined, was never refused. About nine o’clock -a fairly spacious ring was formed just below the -second fireplace, boys standing on bedsteads placed -around, holding candles, which enabled the combatants -to see one another. It would appear that -in the old fighting days the Collegers fought -fewer battles than the Oppidans,—the fights of -the former were usually short and sharp, the boys -being so well acquainted with each other’s strength -and powers, that after a round or two the fight was -discontinued and the quarrel made up.</p> - -<p>The old-fashioned encounters in “Sixpenny -Corner,” which seem to have been conducted in a -more or less formal style, were, of course, most -frequent in the days when the Prize Ring occupied -a prominent place amongst sports patronised by -men of fashion.</p> - -<p>Young Corinthians who had only just left -school no doubt indoctrinated friends still at -Eton with enthusiasm for the knights of the fist, -and caused them to regard pugilism as a science -worthy of attention.</p> - -<p>A curious piece of etiquette in connection with -fighting was, that if a Lower boy wanted to fight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -one in the Upper School, he could do so only -after having obtained leave from the Captain of -the school.</p> - -<p>At one time Eton battles were fought with -hats on, which caused the Westminster boys to -declare that, owing to the damage inflicted upon -knuckles by the hat brims, most Etonian encounters -were not of a serious kind.</p> - -<p>The Sixth Form and Upper boys were expected -to see that fair-play was enforced, and that when -one combatant was clearly overmatched and plainly -worsted, a reconciliation took place. Both were -made to shake hands, and having vented their ill-feeling -in a manly and honourable way, they were -afterwards often found to be the best of friends.</p> - -<p>A great battle at the beginning of the nineteenth -century was the fight between Calthorp -and Forster.</p> - -<p>“Sixpenny Corner,” at the angle where the wall -game now takes place, was the traditional scene -of battle, and here the great Duke of Wellington, -as little Arthur Wellesley, fought Bobus Smith, -brother of Sydney Smith, the fight, according to -all accounts, ending in a draw.</p> - -<p>A redoubtable pugilist was Stratford de Redcliffe, -who emerged victor from many a tough contest. -Less successful was Shelley, who is said to have -received a severe thrashing from little Sir Thomas -Styles. During another fight the youthful poet -attracted a good deal of attention by refusing -to rest on the knee of his second, preferring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -to stride round the ring quoting Homer! No -wonder the boys used to call him “mad Shelley”! -It must be remembered, however, that he was -a constant butt for a large portion of the -school. “My belief,” said Dr. Hawtrey, “is that -what Shelley had to endure at Eton made him a -perfect devil.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THRASHING A LIFEGUARDSMAN</div> - -<p>In the early days of the nineteenth century a -gigantic boy named Wyvill became celebrated for -his fistic powers. He once gave a Lifeguardsman a -severe thrashing in Windsor, and the soldier was -so much upset that he went to the Headmaster, -Dr. Goodall, to complain of his mauling. The -latter, who hated to have to take notice of any -Eton escapade, said, “My good fellow, how can -you expect me to know what boy it was?” -“Boy!” he answered with a country accent; “he -is the biggest mun in the tuttens,” or two towns. -And so Wyvill ever after went by the name of -“the biggest mun in the tuttens.”</p> - -<p>When a challenge had been given and accepted, -the details of the forthcoming fight were arranged -by friends, after which the combatants just walked -into the playing fields with their seconds, stripped -off their jackets, and went to work, the boys forming -a ring, no other formalities being observed—hardly -even a sponge or a watch. When a minute -was supposed to have elapsed, one got up from his -second’s knee and said, “Come on.” A little hot -blood flowed, and as soon as either felt he had -enough he had only to say so. Drawn battles were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -not common or popular, boys preferring to have -matters brought to an issue. There was the most -perfect fair-play, and if things were carried at all -too far, interference was pretty sure to be at hand, -though not otherwise. When, during a fight, -Keate just showed himself at the corner of the -playing fields, the hint was immediately taken.</p> - -<p>Fights between Lower boys, it should be added, -were deemed of small account, but a battle -between two well-known Uppers always attracted -a large crowd.</p> - -<p>The most tragic fight which ever took place at -Eton was a fierce battle between a small boy named -Ashley Cooper and a big one named Wood (afterwards -Sir A. Wood). For three hours the unequal -combat was carried on, till, in the last round -before Lock Up, the former fell senseless and had -to be carried to his tutor’s house, where, half an -hour later, he expired. His death, however, seems -to have been caused by a quantity of brandy given -him by his elder brother, rather than by the effects -of the fight. Also, had medical attendance been procured, -Cooper’s life would probably have been saved. -After, however, he had been carried senseless to -his house, every effort was made to conceal the -state in which he was in, gloves being placed upon -his hands so that their dreadful condition might -not be visible. The boy died the same night.</p> - -<p>The sequel of the encounter was a trial at -Aylesbury, where, on March 9, 1825, Charles Alexander -Wood, seventeen years old, was charged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -before Mr. Justice Gazelee with the manslaughter -of the Hon. Francis Ashley Cooper, after a quarrel -in the Eton playing fields. The fight, it was -proved, had been conducted in the strictest accordance -with the rules of the Prize Ring, which at -that time still flourished. No less than sixty -rounds were shown to have been fought with the -fiercest determination—the time occupied, two -hours. Cooper, who was two years younger -than his antagonist, had been given nearly -a pint of brandy to enable him to continue -the struggle against a more powerful opponent. -Wood was, of course, acquitted; besides which, -Cooper’s brother entirely exonerated him, taking -all the blame on himself for having administered -the brandy.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AN ILLEGIBLE INSCRIPTION</div> - -<p>This battle—the most serious schoolboy fight -which ever took place—probably had some effect -in decreasing the popularity of fistic encounters. -It certainly created a great sensation, being, according -to some, commemorated by an inscription -(now illegible) upon the white stone let into the -wall at Sixpenny Corner. The late Mr. Brownlow -North, Lord Kintore tells me, declared that -he had been a second at the fight, and remembered -the insertion of the stone as a memorial.</p> - -<p>The Gasworks eventually superseded “Sixpenny” -as a fistic arena, though the time-honoured -phrase, “Will you fight me in ‘Sixpenny’?” still -remained the recognised form of challenge.</p> - -<p>In 1858 fighting was already beginning to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -out of fashion. In 1865, while the Public Schools -Commissioners were sitting, they examined a -Lower boy touching fights, and asked him if he -had any theory to explain why regular stand-up -fights had become so rare? The boy answered, -“Oh! I suppose it’s because the fellows funk -each other.”</p> - -<p>The real reason of the disappearance of fighting -was that it came to be thought bad form, and -consequently no longer received any patronage -from boys who were the swells of the school. -Once it began to be considered “scuggish,” the fate -of Eton pugilism was sealed, and though informal -encounters occasionally occur—there was a determined -battle near the railway arches in 1893—within -the last forty years fighting has become -a thing of the past.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>IV<br /> -“CADS,” AND THE “CHRISTOPHER”</h2> - - -<p>Though a century or so ago fights and floggings -were ordinary incidents of school life, a large -number of boys contrived to make time pass -very pleasantly indeed. At that time the sporting -Etonian was quite a recognised type.</p> - -<p>The following sketch, from the <cite>Sporting -Magazine</cite>, of Etonian ways in 1799, whilst, of -course, a somewhat exaggerated caricature, was -evidently based upon a very solid substratum of -truth:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p><em>Sunday.</em>—Not well—church a bore—headache increased -by bell—sent an excuse—up at ten—dressed by eleven—sipped -tea in a back room—read half a page of <cite>Sporting -Magazine</cite>—d—d good—much pleased with the Oxonian’s -diary—walked to Castle—prayers with Bluster—rowed the -cut of Bluster’s coat—bad taylor—smoked a Cockney, and -his blue silks—kicked his wig in the kennel—teach the dog -good manners—came down to dinner—no appetite—Dame’s -hash, like shoe-leather—drank wine at the Christopher—bad -port—waiter, jawed—shoved him out—during evening church, -finished Oxonian diary—tight cock—wish I knew him—drank -tea at Coker’s—bad company—Spanker and self -adjourned to Cloisters—good fun—returned to Dame’s—sat -with Pink—bad supper—four beer—rowed the maids—picked -teeth—went to bed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p><em>Monday.</em>—Waked at eight—keep up pretence of headache—up -at ten—dressed by eleven—Smith’s burgamot, not so -good as usual—breakfast—at one, walked to billiards—no -one there—beat the marker.—Mem. Not go to Huddlestone’s -again—came down—dinner better than usual—new cook—dull -evening—went to bed early.</p> - -<p><em>Tuesday.</em>—Sham leave—hunted with King’s hounds—Steven’s -blood lame—d—d bore—forced to ride the grey—new -boots—bad leather—cut Webb for the future, and -employ Atkins—Alderman S——y, wretched quiz—his -chesnut horse broke down—let him fall into a ditch—hat -and wig, both lost—looked like a bumble bee in a tar pot—good -hunt—hard riding—go along—keep moving.—Mem. -Always row the Alderman and not forget to cram Pink—came -home tired—sandwiches and wine at the White Hart—merry -evening—got drunk—Dame jawed.</p> - -<p><em>Wednesday.</em>—Whole school day—very dull—walked to -Steven’s—Grey, knocked up—pain in my side—evening, -cards, etc.—much better—betting in my favour—beat -Dashall at cribbage—won nine shillings—lucky dog—went -to bed in good spirits.</p></blockquote> - -<p>Elaborate hoaxes were common at the commencement -of the nineteenth century. A young -Etonian acquired a good deal of notoriety by -sending the town-crier, whom he had fee’d for the -purpose, to announce a general illumination in -honour of the battle of Vittoria. It created quite -a sensation in both Windsor and Eton; and -although no one knew from whence the orders -came, G. R.’s and coloured lamps in abundance were -displayed in the windows of many of the houses. -A meeting of the magistrates was hastily summoned, -and the hoax was discovered. The writing gave -a clue to the culprit, who in due course underwent -the punishment usual in such cases.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">SPORTING BOYS</div> - -<p>License which would be inconceivable at the -present day prevailed—bull-baiting on Batchelor’s -Acre and cock-fighting in Bedford’s Yard being -quite ordinary amusements. Small wonder that at -one time strong complaint was made as to the -habits of the school. Ascot Races were regularly -attended by many of the older boys. Hunting -and tandem-driving were not uncommon. Henry -Matthews, author of the <cite>Diary of an Invalid</cite>, a -very clever and eccentric boy, drove a tandem -right through Eton and Windsor; a later rival, -however, of Keate’s day, when James Clegg of -Windsor provided sporting boys with horses and -traps, drove one through the school-yard. Billiards -continued to be very popular, not only with the -boys but with their Masters, who claimed “first -turn” at the tables.</p> - -<p>Copying the London bucks, Upper boys would -sally out on dark nights and wrench bell-pulls and -knockers from the dames’ houses, or make hay in -the poultry-yard of old Pocock, the farmer at the -corner of “Cut-throat” Lane, as Datchet Lane -was then sometimes called.</p> - -<p>Poaching expeditions in Windsor Park were -quite common. On one occasion young Lord -Baltimore and a companion, when out after game, -were pursued by a Master. The young Peer, -however, escaped, but eventually gave himself -up in order to save his friend (who had refused to -divulge his associate’s name) from expulsion.</p> - -<p>Guns could then be hired for the purpose of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -shooting swallows and swifts on the Brocas bank, -where a number of sporting “cads,” then known as -“Private Tutors,” assisted in all sorts of sprees, -providing dogs, fishing-tackle, badgers, ferrets, rats, -fighting dogs, horses, and even, it is said, bulls for -baiting.</p> - -<p>Eighty or ninety years ago a dozen or more of -such men were constantly to be seen loitering in -front of the College every morning, making their -arrangements with their pupils, the Oppidans, for -a day’s sport, to commence the moment school was -over. At one time they used actually to occupy -a seat on the low wall in front of the College, but -Dr. Keate interfered to expel the assemblage; -nevertheless, they continued to carry on their intercourse -with the boys, and walked about watching -their opportunity for communication.</p> - -<p>A number supplied cats for hunts upon the -Brocas, while a number organised duck hunts, a -duck being put into the river and hunted with -considerable brutality. A few, however, escaped -by diving and tiring the dogs out.</p> - -<p>Some of these men were strange characters, -who showed great recklessness when times were -bad, and would be ready to let boys have a shot -at them at a distance of seventy-five yards or so, -three shillings a shot being the accepted price.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“PICKY POWELL”</div> - -<p>Others would jump from the middle of Windsor -Bridge for a consideration. The stake-holder on -such occasions was usually Jem Powell, known as -“Picky” Powell, who about 1824 was celebrated in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -Eton for his “quart of sovereigns,” it being his -invariable practice when elated—for Jem, needless -to say, was no teetotaller—to march up and down -in front of his house with a silver-gilt tankard -filled with his savings, all in gold.</p> - -<p>This Picky Powell would appear to be identical -with the individual who, years later, enjoyed a -considerable reputation as having been professional -bowler to the school. During the annual matches -with Harrow at Lord’s, Picky usually made a -point of having an informal sparring match with a -well-known Harrow “cad,” Billy Warner by name, -who, like his bigger antagonist, was supposed to -have been a notable cricketer in his youth. A -favourite taunt of Picky’s which usually inaugurated -hostilities was, “All the good I sees in -‘Arrow’ is that you can see Eton from it if ye go -up into the churchyard.”</p> - -<p>The last appearance of Powell at Lord’s appears -to have been in 1858, when, as usual, he croaked -defiance at his hereditary foe. On this occasion, -however, no sparring was permitted, but Picky -reaped a rich harvest of silver, bestowed upon him -by old Etonians.</p> - -<div id="Fig_102" class="figcenter" style="width: 545px;"> -<img src="images/i_p102.jpg" width="545" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Jack Hall, Fisherman of Eton.<br /> -<em>Print lent by G. Culliford, Esq.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>A well-known character of the past on the -Brocas was Jack Hall, nicknamed “Foxy Hall,” -by all accounts the most worthy of Eton “cads,” -and celebrated as an expert angler. His portrait, -taken from an old print, is here reproduced. -Others were Joe Cannon, Fish, “Shampo Carter” -(who taught swimming in 1824 with the Headmaster’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -permission), Jack Garraway, and the -Anti-Catholic Jim Miller, the patriarch of “cads,” -who signed a petition against Catholic Emancipation -“upon principle.” “For,” he said, “when -the d——d rogues burnt Cranmer and Ridley, they -never paid for the fagots—unprincipled varmints!” -A great deal of license was accorded to these wall -loungers, most of whom were ready to abet the -boys in every kind of mischief.</p> - -<p>One of the most noted sporting “cads” was -old Jimmy Flowers, whose speciality was badger-baiting -on the Brocas, his stock-in-trade consisting -of a badger in a sack and an old tub with one -end knocked out. Dogs used to be put into the -tub to fetch the badger out, the charge being -sixpence, unless the fight with the badger lasted -very long, when Old Jimmy used to exact a further -fee. When the fun, if it can be called fun, had -lasted long enough, the badger, whose opinion of -the proceedings it would have been interesting to -have heard, was replaced in the sack, and with a -cheery “Good day, gentlemen, your dogs have had -good sport,” Jimmy would walk away.</p> - -<p>Another well-known character in the beginning -of the nineteenth century was Old Matty Groves, -who was much teased by the boys on account of his -rooted antipathy to clergymen, whom he used to -denounce as the “black slugs” of the country. He -it was who led the procession which every seven -years went round to beat the Eton boundary, and -nailed up a cross of old iron hoops on a venerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -willow near the grounds of Black Potts, where in -after years Dr. Hornby had a retreat. Old Matty -was very unconventional in his ways, and had been -known in flood-time, when the stream was running -strong, to plunge into it in his clothes at Barnes -Pool Bridge and swim across to his cottage.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FLOODS</div> - -<p>Floods have always been liable to occur at -Eton, though, for the most part, they have -generally subsided before becoming serious. In -1809, however, there was a tremendous one, -which carried away six of the central arches of -the old “Fifteen Arch” Bridge on the Slough -Road that spans the stream which feeds Fellows’ -Pond. For five days the only communication -with some of the boarding-houses was by boats and -carts, and the school had practically a week’s -holiday. The boys lay in bed till a late hour, -and when they got up it was to play cards and get -into other mischief. Driving down Eton Street in -carts, with the risk of getting spilt into the water, -was one of their favourite amusements.</p> - -<p>Two subsequent floods have been almost, if not -quite, as serious—one in 1852, the year that the -Duke of Wellington died, and one in 1894, when -all the boys had to be sent home. Many of the -Masters, however, remained behind, and spent their -time in rescuing people in the surrounding country -and supplying them with food.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SPANKIE</div> - -<p>Though in 1829, owing to the adoption of stern -measures, the “Private Tutors” under whose -auspices many a boy had shot his first moor-hen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -and laid his first eel-pot were expelled from the -College precincts, the “sock cads” continued to -haunt the “wall” for many years later. The -most celebrated of these, of course, was the -famous Spankie, who flourished about half a -century ago. Spankie never failed to appear in -the playing fields during summer, whilst in winter -he was more or less of a fixture at the wall. -Of him was written, one summer’s day when the -cricket was getting slow in Upper Club, the line, -“Totaque tartiferis Spancheia fervet ahenis.” A -ridiculous and unfounded school tradition declared -that he was a son of a General le Marchant, and -he was often playfully apostrophised by that name.</p> - -<p>The principal characteristics of this worthy, -besides a rubicund countenance, a long blue frock -coat, and an old top hat (invariably worn on one -side of his head), were extreme oiliness of manner, -combined with an unlimited amount of cheek. -His wares, chiefly tartlets of all sorts, were contained -in a sort of huge tin can supported on legs. -At the proper season he also sold pots of flowers.</p> - -<p>Spankie was imbued with a tremendous veneration -for the aristocracy, and prided himself upon -his acquaintance with the history of every noble -family in England. Rumour, indeed, declared that -most of his time out of sock-selling hours was -devoted to studying the <cite>Peerage</cite> and the <cite>Landed -Gentry</cite>, both of which works he was supposed -to know pretty well by heart. This, no doubt, -was a schoolboy exaggeration, but certain it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -that Spankie had a curious and not inaccurate -knowledge of the noble houses whose youthful -scions furnished him with a comfortable income. It -was a way of his to address the sons of distinguished -people by their fathers’ names, whilst, it should -be added, often fleecing them in a merciless -manner, for, sad to tell, his methods were not above -suspicion. A favourite trick was carefully to array -a few very fine strawberries or cherries at the top -of a pottle after filling up the lower portion with -very inferior fruit; as, however, he made a practice -of giving liberal tick, little was ever said about this. -He made quite a comfortable fortune out of the -Eton boys, as was realised when it became known -that he had contributed no less than £50 to the -fund for building a new parish church in the High -Street.</p> - -<p>By the lower members of the school Spankie -was looked up to as a perfect oracle, for he seemed -to know everything, could predict who would be -members of the Eleven or Eight, and tell the name -and history of the latest comer, stringing on to it, -if necessary, a list of all his relations, with their -various achievements. One of this celebrated sock -cad’s chief peculiarities was that he could scarcely -utter three consecutive words without a “sir” coming -at the end of them; and it was marvellous how -he could change them as easily as he did into “my -lord” when any of the young aristocracy came up -to him.</p> - -<p>In addition to entertaining an unlimited respect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -for the British aristocracy, Spankie nurtured a -deep contempt for trade, as the small sons of rich -manufacturers, especially when they had failed to -meet their liabilities, frequently had reason to -know. “Good morning, sar,” Spankie would say -to a scion of some house not unconnected with -“cotton,” who might be rather backward in settling -his debts. “Glad to see you back, sar. Bought -some pocket-handkerchiefs at your establishment -in the vacation, sar; cheap enough, only six -shillings a dozen; but I don’t find them wash -well, sar.”</p> - -<p>According to some, Spankie made quite a -comfortable little sum by supplying the names of -visitors to Eton to the London papers, whilst -rumour also declared that on occasion the College -authorities employed him to trace and recapture -runaways.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SOCK CADS</div> - -<p>One of Spankie’s best-known predecessors was a -sock cad named Charley Pass, who was to be seen -daily stationed at the wall near the gateway with a -curious tin apparatus containing pies, kept hot by a -charcoal brazier. He had a peculiar cry, somewhat -resembling that of the long obsolete pieman. “Ham -and Veal; Mutton Eel,” he would call out as the -boys were emerging from school. Young Collegers -who knew his ways would drive him to fury by -shouting “and dog—that’s what I want.” Trotman -with his barrow was also a familiar figure in -the “forties.”</p> - -<p>Another sock cad who had some pretensions to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -being a rival to Spankie was a hook-nosed little man -known as Levi, the Jew. Spankie and he constantly -indulged in verbal sparring, in which the -Hebrew, who was a man of few words, as a rule -got much the worst of it. On one occasion this -so infuriated Levi that a battle royal ensued. -Goaded to frenzy by some taunt of Spankie’s, Levi -challenged him to come on, and an animated tussle -ensued, speedily ended only by the appearance of -one of the Masters, who, separating the combatants, -thoroughly frightened both by declaring that he -had a good mind to see that the two of them -should be prevented from frequenting the neighbourhood -of the wall. The idea of this thoroughly -cowed even the irrepressible Spankie, and henceforth -Levi and he lived at peace.</p> - -<p>A less assertive character than either of the two -worthies mentioned above was old Brion or Bryant, -a white-headed sock cad whose invariable costume -was a grey coat. According to current report -he had no less than twenty-one children. His -speciality lay in purveying small glasses of cherry -jam dashed with cream at fourpence, which must -have yielded him a good profit.</p> - -<p>Bryant outdid the other sock cads in owning a -huge barrow, which every day was wheeled to the -wall. A portly, good-natured man, he was not as -astute as Spankie, and consequently was frequently -imposed upon by his young customers. Sometimes, -however, he showed a keen aptitude for business. -When, for instance, a little boy complained that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -had given him but a small pennyworth of preserve -in his jam-bun, he would evince the amiability of -his intentions by saying, “I was afraid it might -disagree with you, sir.”</p> - -<p>Another well-known character in the sixties of -the last century was an old lady known as “Missis,” -who sat by the entrance to the school-yard selling -apples, nuts, bullfinches, and dormice.</p> - -<p>During more recent years there have been no -sock cads of such marked individuality as those -mentioned above, nor do they enjoy the privileges -which were accorded to their predecessors of a -more easy-going age, their appearance at the wall -being discouraged. Some, however, still ply their -trade in the playing fields and at the bathing-places. -The most original of the modern school -was “Hoppie.” Every portion of this worthy’s -costume, according to his own account, had -belonged to some prominent old Etonian. During -the summer half he was a constant frequenter of -“Upper Hope,” where perhaps he still parades -“the Duke of Wellington’s coat” and “Lord -Roberts’ trousers” as of yore.</p> - -<p>Thirty years ago there were several individuals -known as “Jobey”—a name taken from almost -the last of the old Eton characters, “Jobey -Joel,” who died not very long ago. He remembered -the school when far more latitude was -allowed the boys, and had many a queer tale to -tell of that vanished institution, the Christopher, -now but a fading memory in the minds of a few.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE CHRISTOPHER</div> - -<p>The ancient hostelry in question would seem to -have flourished as long ago as the sixteenth century. -The mention of a certain Nicholas Williams lodging -“ad signum Christoferi” occurs in the Eton Audit -Book for 1523. The old inn served as a refuge to -the “ever memorable” Eton Fellow, John Hales, -who for his unwavering allegiance to the King was -deprived of his fellowship.</p> - -<p>In later days the Christopher became a great -social centre of local life. All the coaches stopped -at its door, and before Dr. Hawtrey abolished -the Eton Market there was a weekly ordinary for -farmers, and occasionally a hunt dinner, with noise -enough to have driven the Muses back to Greece. -Its rooms were in great request with parents come -down to see their promising or unpromising -offspring, whilst old Etonians revisiting Eton -made the old place their headquarters as a matter -of course.</p> - -<p>“Lord! how great I used to think anybody just -landed at the Christopher!” wrote Horace Walpole -when he returned to his old school in 1746. The -place recalled many memories of boyhood to his -mind, and he declared that he felt “just like Noah, -with all sorts of queer feels about him.”</p> - -<p>Horace Walpole had passed some happy days -at Eton, where one of his greatest friends was the -studious and quiet Gray, who read Virgil for amusement -out of school. The writer of the famous -letters had a great affection for Eton, and Cambridge, -as he said, seemed a wilderness to him as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -compared with the “dear scene” he had left. In -after life the recollection of his school-days was -ever keen. When, for instance, he first saw a -balloon he declared that he was at once reminded -of an Eton football. Though fond of reading, -like many other Eton boys, the writer of the -famous letters showed little enthusiasm for the -school work.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“I remember,” says he, “when I was at Eton, and Mr. -Bland had set me on an extraordinary task, I used sometimes -to pique myself upon not getting it, because it was not -immediately my school business. What! learn more than I -was absolutely forced to learn! I felt the weight of learning -that, for I was a blockhead, and pushed above my parts.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>Spending much of his time in the playing fields -musing, he retained the recollection all his life.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“No old maid’s gown,” said he, “though it had been -tormented into all the fashions from King James to King -George, ever underwent so many transformations as these -poor plains have in my idea. At first I was contented with -tending a visionary flock and sighing some pastoral name to -the echo of the cascade under the bridge. As I got further -into Virgil and Clelia, I found myself transported from -Arcadia to the garden of Italy; and saw Windsor Castle in -no other view than the Capitoli immobile saxum.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>In Horace Walpole’s day Kendall, himself an -old Etonian, presided over the Christopher. Later -came Garraway and Jack Knight.</p> - -<p>The rattling of coach wheels over the cobblestones -outside the old inn was a never-failing -source of excitement and interest to the boys. -Most of them knew the drivers, whom they delighted -to hail with volleys of chaff.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">STAGE COACHMEN</div> - -<p>A famous Eton stage coachman was Jack -Bowes of the “Original,” which started from the -Bolt in Tun, Fleet Street, and called at Hatchett’s in -Piccadilly. Often on his arrival at the Christopher, -Bowes would be welcomed with a brisk fusillade -fired by boys from pea-shooters. He had been a -soldier and seen a good deal of service, and was a -most popular character with all sorts of people, and -especially with the relatives and fathers of Eton -boys; for, like Moody, another Eton coachman, -Bowes knew all that there was to be known about -the College and its ways. He was a kindly man, -and reassured many a small boy fresh from home -and nervous as to the ordeal awaiting him when -he reached the great public school. One idea -which not a few new boys had firmly implanted -upon their minds was that by way of initiation -into the privilege of becoming an Etonian they -would be pitched off Windsor Bridge and made to -struggle for their life. There was, of course, not -the slightest foundation for such an idea, which no -doubt arose because in former days it was no very -uncommon thing for Etonians, anxious to show -their powers as swimmers, to take a header from -the Bridge into the Thames beneath. Many -indeed were experts at such feats.</p> - -<p>Less kindly than Bowes were some of the -hangers-on who gained a livelihood by lounging -about the White Horse Cellar in Piccadilly, which -was always a great rendezvous for all sorts of queer -characters, itinerant orange-vendors and others,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -who flocked round the coaches hoping to make a -more or less honest penny. Amongst these was -one well-known individual who gained a livelihood -by doing odd jobs in the way of carrying parcels -and helping with luggage. He was especially -active on days when the Eton boys were returning -to school, and as he took some little fellow’s -trunk to hoist it on to the coach would cheerfully -impart the information that “he had never seen -such a fine load of birch as had gone down the day -before.”</p> - -<p>“Bishop”—a particular kind of punch—and -Bulstrode ale were the two beverages for which -the Christopher was famous. Garraway brought -the latter into fashion, and a huge amount of it was -drunk, and though Garraway had only purchased -a small stock of this famous old ale at the sale at -Bulstrode, by some miraculous process it continued -to be served out in plentiful quantities ever after. -This became a standing joke against mine host of -the Christopher, who afterwards made a speciality -of an excellent tap, which he called the Queen’s, -from some he had purchased at Windsor. This -was sold in small quarts, at a shilling per jug.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE OPPIDANS’ CLUB</div> - -<p>The old place was often quite full of undergraduates, -young officers, and bucks come down to -take a look at the school they had so recently left, -and some of these young men, especially those -from Oxford (where formerly so many Etonians -went on account of its being the headquarters of -classical learning) formed what was known as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -“Oppidans’ Club.” The main object of this convivial -association, which met in one of the cellars, -next to consuming large quantities of port, was to -sally out after nightfall and abduct the shops’ -signs—barbers’ poles and other insignia of trade—from -the houses in the High Street, afterwards -bearing them back to the Christopher in triumph. -The tradesmen bore these eccentricities with considerable -fortitude, for in the end they were pretty -sure not to suffer.</p> - -<p>Representations to the masters and authorities -were scarcely necessary to redress such whimsical -grievances, the injured parties being well aware -that they would receive due compensation. The -next day the spoils and trophies were arranged in -due form in the cellar at the old inn, which became -well known by the name of “Oppidan’s Museum.” -Here the merry wags were to be found in council, -holding a court of claims, to which all the shopkeepers -who had suffered any loss were successively -summoned; and after pointing out from among -the motley collection the article they claimed, and -the price it originally cost, they were handsomely -remunerated or the sign replaced. The good -people of Eton generally chose the former, as it -not only enabled them to sport a new sign, but to -put a little profit upon the cost price of the old -one. The trophies thus acquired were then packed -up in hampers and despatched to Oxford, where -they were on similar occasions not infrequently -displayed or hung up in lieu of some well-known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -sign, such as the Mitre, etc., which had been -removed during the night.</p> - -<p>Some Collegers once played a joke of this sort -on Dr. Keate. A Windsor hatter, Jones by name, -had outside his shop an immense tin three-cornered -cocked hat as a sign, the exact counterpart, except -much larger, of the one Keate wore. This was -stolen one winter’s evening by a detachment of -Collegers; they managed to send it to London, -and thence, carefully packed, it was forwarded to -Keate. Meanwhile, a letter was sent to Jones -saying that the writer could give him some inkling -of who was the thief, for that Dr. Keate had long -been observed to eye this magnificent cocked hat -with longing envy, and there was no doubt if a -search warrant was procured, it would be found in -the house of the Headmaster.</p> - -<p>The cellar in which met the so-called “Oppidans’ -Club” was known as “the Estaminet.” The usual -fare here was bread and cheese, beer and porter, -and in its general features it seems to have been -the precursor of the present Tap. Lower boys -had no share in its amenities. On occasion, however, -stronger potations were indulged in, and of -course this was more especially the case when old -Etonians from the Universities were paying a visit -to their old school.</p> - -<div id="Fig_116" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p116.jpg" width="600" height="344" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Oppidan’s Museum</span> <em>or Eton Court of Claims at the Christopher</em>.<br /> -<em>From a coloured print in the possession of the Rt. Honble. Lewis Harcourt, M.P.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>No doubt, these visitors had rather a demoralising -effect upon the boys who stood by in admiration, -envying the bucks who lounged over the -rails of the gallery and indulged in chaff with those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -below, whilst they ogled any pretty girl who might -chance to meet their roving glance, or chaffed any -mischievous Etonians who hung about the old -yard, occasionally pulling the bungs out of the -casks which were ranged there.</p> - -<p>In the old Christopher the assistant masters at -one time had a room reserved for them in which -they were wont to meet, whilst regular convivial -assemblies were sometimes organised there by -Eton boys, one of the chief being on St. Andrew’s -Day, when Colleger had met Oppidan at the wall.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A RAID</div> - -<p>In its last years, when the famous hostelry -began to be regarded as a great moral danger by -the authorities, they began to make determined -efforts to prevent boys from being within its doors, -and one St. Andrew’s Day a raid was suddenly -made. Just as the revelry had reached its height, -Smut, otherwise known as Beelzebub, the head -waiter, announced the appearance of a party of -masters. Great confusion ensued, and as an -ominous creaking of boots was heard on the staircase, -the landlord’s daughter turned off the gas, -and all was left in darkness. A stentorian voice -was heard crying, “I require the landlord of this -house to provide me with a light.” Meanwhile, one -of the masters groped his way to the door of the -banqueting-room and held it so that no one could -pass. One of the raiding party, a master named -Goodford, who afterwards became “Head,” greatly -distinguished himself by embracing Smut, whom -in the darkness he mistook for a boy trying to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -his escape. However, he was rudely undeceived -by a gruff voice grunting out, “Come, none of this -nonsense!” At length a light was procured, and -as the boys filed out, one by one, their names were -entered in a “black list.”</p> - -<p>The curious thing is that little organised effort -seems ever to have been made to prevent boys from -being allowed to enter the old inn; raiding them -when within its walls naturally did little good; in -fact, it merely stimulated the spirit of adventure -and made them go there more. A cousin of the -writer—well-known as master of the West Kent -foxhounds—describing Eton life under Hawtrey, -could not help speaking with glee of how he and a -companion were the only boys out of twenty who -managed to escape during one of these raids, the -perilous method adopted having been to climb -down a waterpipe and then drop into the yard at -the back.</p> - -<p>The Christopher finally ended its career as a -hostelry in 1842, owing to the Crown giving up -the lease to the College. Its abolition had been -constantly urged ever since Dr. Hawtrey had become -Headmaster. A violent foe to the old inn and its -enemy, he branded it as the greatest evil in Eton -life, and after it had been numbered with things of -the past he was so pleased that, as a sort of thank-offering, -he wanted it to be pulled down and a -chapel of ease erected on the site. This scheme, -however, was not carried out, St. John’s Church -being built in the High Street instead and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -Christopher turned into a boarding-house, the -tap-room becoming a court of justice, where petty -sessions were held.</p> - -<p>Another part of the building was appropriated -to the use of the Eton Debating Society, -commonly called “Pop” (it is said, from “popina,” -an eating-house), which celebrated its centenary -in the present year. Its original domicile was -over the small shop of Mrs. Hatton, the confectioner, -quarters very useful for gratifying a love -of “sock.” It is said that at the Saturday four-o’clock -meetings the proceedings were often delayed -by the consumption of ices and cakes and the -drinking of cherry brandy.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">WILLIAM JOHNSON</div> - -<p>The vestibule, where so many wild young bucks -had kicked their heels, was turned into a pupil room, -in which for a time presided one of the most gifted, -if eccentric, Eton masters who ever existed, -William Johnson (who afterwards changed his -name to Cory), the author of <cite>Ionica</cite> and of the -Eton boating song. Highly unconventional in his -ways, he could never remain unmoved when he -heard the sound of drums outside in the street, -indicating that some regiment was passing through -the College. Eton has given many a gallant -officer to England, and, as the large number of -memorials in the Chapel shows, the roll of Etonian -soldiers is associated with numberless glorious -memories. These stirred the imaginative mind of -the clever master, and, keenly desirous that the -rising generation should imbibe a due portion of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -that martial ardour which was the heritage of their -school, he would lead his pupils out to the archway, -and, pointing to the passing regiment, proudly -exclaim, “Boys, the British army!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Johnson was an Eton master from 1845 to -1872, during which period he showed all the -qualifications of a gifted teacher, though at times -betraying considerable eccentricity. He was much -given to introspection, and amused boys would often -regale themselves with the sight of Billy Johnson, -as they irreverently called him, standing wrapt -in profound meditation all alone in the school-yard, -totally oblivious of everything about him. He -was very short-sighted, which gave rise to the -story that he had been seen furiously rushing down -Windsor Hill, making futile grabs at a fleeing hen, -which he believed to be his hat, blown off by the -wind. In school, owing to this infirmity, he was -unable to perceive what boys were doing, and the -carving of names and cutting into desks and forms -was carried on in perfect safety beneath his very -nose. Against positive disorder, however, he could -well defend himself, and his paradoxical utterances -and epigrammatic sayings kept even the most -turbulent spirits in check.</p> - -<p>His powers of satire were generally recognised -as being highly formidable, and masters as well as -boys sometimes felt the keen thrust of his rapier. -In a school book, <cite>Nuces</cite>, written by him for the -use of the lower forms, was to be found a sentence -which Etonians universally agreed was a hit at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -somewhat unpopular master, conspicuous for the -length of his flowing beard. This ran: “Formerly -wise men used to grow beards. Now other persons -do so.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE BOATING SONG</div> - -<p>Though the poetical masterpiece of Mr. Johnson -is the small volume entitled <cite>Ionica</cite>, which contains -some beautiful verse, a more generally known -composition of his is the Eton boating song, which -has been carried by old Etonians practically all over -the world. An interesting account of how this -song came to be written is given by the Reverend -A. C. Ainger in his admirable work on <cite>Eton -in Prose and Verse</cite>. It would seem to have been -composed in the winter of 1863 for the 4th of June -of that year. Some little time later the words were -printed in the third number of a periodical called the -<cite>Eton Scrap-book</cite>, of which Everard Primrose was -one of the joint-editors. A copy of the words were -sent in 1865 to a subaltern in the Rifle Brigade, -Algernon Drummond by name, who was then -with his battalion at Nowshera, in India. This -young officer, who, four or five years before, had -been one of Johnson’s pupils, was haunted by the -words till the tune came to them, and eventually, -owing to him, a number of officers who had been at -Eton made a practice of singing it nightly after -mess. Gradually guests learnt it, with the result -that old Etonians in other regiments took to -singing the song which recalled to them their old -school in distant England.</p> - -<p>The composition of this boating song, it should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -be added, cost William Johnson much trouble and -some sleepless nights; nevertheless, its final form -contains some lines which are scarcely worthy of an -author who, in <cite>Ionica</cite>, has shown himself a true -poet. It must, however, be remembered that the -song, as we have it, was never intended for the -wide publicity which it so speedily attained. -No doubt its popularity has been in a great -measure caused by the charming tune to which -it was set, whilst the whole-hearted and somewhat -touching devotion to Eton expressed in the words -makes an irresistible appeal to all true sons of -the school, particularly to those who remember -the days when, free from care, they passed many a -happy hour</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Skirting past the rushes, -</div><div class="indentone">Ruffling o’er the weeds, -</div><div class="indentbase">Where the lock stream gushes, -</div><div class="indentone">Where the cygnet feeds. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>The fact that “the rushes” are now no more, -having been entirely swept away by the great -flood of 1894, will not cause Etonians of a later -date to sing the words less heartily, and many a -generation yet to come will probably continue to -accord this boating song the appreciation which it -first obtained nearly half a century ago.</p> - -<p>No man, perhaps, ever expressed better the -true Eton spirit than Mr. Johnson in some -words he uttered a few months before his -death. He was a sufferer from heart disease, -and realised that his end might at any time occur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -Declining a friend’s invitation, he said, “I think it -unmannerly to drop down dead in another man’s -grounds.”</p> - -<p>The pupil room in which he sat has now ceased -to serve that purpose; the old structure of the -Christopher, having undergone further changes, -is now used merely to accommodate masters, and -has ceased to be an Eton house. The only -external trace of the inn yard as it was, are -some of the old balustrades of the ancient gallery -facing the site of the livery stables which were -swept away in 1901. Many will remember Charley -Wise, the proprietor, who used to be such a -familiar figure standing under the archway thirty -years ago.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SHELLEY</div> - -<p>The original sign of the Christopher, it should be -added, hangs at the modern Christopher in the High -Street. Shelley, when an Eton boy, one night stole -the great gilded bunch of grapes from this, and hung -it in front of the Headmaster’s door, so that the -astounded pedagogue ran into it as he was hurrying -into school in the morning. The whole character -of Shelley was a mass of contradictions, and he -seems to have been far from happy at school, where -he seldom joined in any sports; according to some -he never went on the river, but this is doubtful. -The young poet’s favourite ramble was Stoke Park -and the picturesque churchyard close by, rendered -famous for all time by Gray’s <cite>Elegy</cite>, of which -Shelley is said to have been very fond.</p> - -<p>As was shown by the incident of the Christopher’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -grapes, Shelley, though as a rule of a meditative -disposition, was on occasion given to playing pranks. -He once bought a large brass cannon at an auction -in Windsor, and harnessed many Lower boys to -draw it down into College. It was captured by -one of the tutors and kept till the holidays at -Hexter’s. He was fond of experimenting in science, -and set fire to a tree in south meadow by laying -a train of gunpowder to it; another time, by -means of an electrical machine, he flung his tutor -against the wall.</p> - -<p>This tutor’s name was Bethell, and, according -to all accounts, he was a somewhat unattractive -character. Amongst the boys he was known as -“Vox et praeterea nihil” and “Botch” Bethell, -because he was supposed always to be making -errors or botches in altering their verses. His -favourite phrase, which he used to alter as it -might be for a long or a short verse, was for the -former “sibi vindicat ipse,” for the latter “vindicat -ipse sibi,” in consequence of which an impudent -boy in his house, being one day asked at meal-time -what he would take, said, “Sir, I vindicate -to myself a slice of mutton.” Towards the -boys under his charge Bethell was harsh, and -sometimes even brutal. Meeting a Lower boy -one day coming in with a bowl full of sausages -covered by his hat to keep them warm, Bethell -sternly inquired, “What have you got there?” -The boy, fearing trouble, whimpered, “Nothing, -sir,” upon which Bethell jerked up the bowl with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -his hand and sent hat and sausages flying into the -road.</p> - -<p>In Shelley’s day, life at Eton had changed a -good deal, compared with that led some twenty -years before, when Arthur Wellesley was a shy, -retiring Lower boy, in whom neither masters nor -schoolfellows saw any germs of future greatness.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE GREAT DUKE</div> - -<p>He was about twelve years old when he went -to Miss Naylor’s, and in spite of his shyness he is -supposed to have taken part with his companions -in several escapades. Traditions used to be current -at Eton about his shooting expeditions up the river -at unpermitted seasons and hours; and during the -middle of the last century a tree standing near -the site of his dame’s was known as “the Duke’s -Tree,” because it was said that as a boy the old -duke had been fond of climbing it. Arthur -Wellesley was not very long at Eton, but nevertheless -in after life he cherished a great love for -the school to which in due course he sent his sons. -One of his first acts on going down to visit -them there was to take them to see the door -at his old house where, when a boy, he had cut -his own name. Though no great athlete himself, -he fully appreciated the manly character induced -by games and sport, and Creasy declares that not -many years before his death he was passing by the -playing fields, where numerous groups were happily -busied at their games of cricket. Pointing to -them, the old Field-Marshal said, “There grows -the stuff that won Waterloo.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>The great Duke’s elder brother, Lord Mornington, -afterwards Marquis of Wellesley, had, as is -well known, a fanatical love for Eton, where, by -his express wish, he was buried, his own beautiful -Latin lines<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> recording the satisfaction with which -he looked forward to resting there. According to -a request which he left behind him, six weeping -willows were planted in different parts of the -playing fields, and a bench fixed at a particular -spot which commanded his favourite view.</p> - -<p>As an Eton boy he was a particularly fine -elocutionist, as was shown by two recitations of -his at Speeches on Election Monday 1778, before -a large number of royal visitors; in Strafford’s -dying speech he drew tears from the audience. -David Garrick, hearing of it, complimented the -youthful speaker on having done what he had -never achieved, namely, made the King weep. To -which the clever Etonian returned the graceful -answer, “That is because you never spoke to him -in the character of a fallen favourite.”</p> - -<p>In many ways this brother of the Iron Duke -may be considered the type of the perfect Etonian, -and, as far as classical learning went, scarcely any -boy educated at the school ever equalled him. -When Dr. Goodall, a contemporary at Eton of -Lord Wellesley, was examined in 1818 before the -Education Committee of the House of Commons -respecting the alleged passing over of Porson in -giving promotions to King’s College, he at once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -declared that the celebrated Greek scholar was -not by any means at the head of the Etonians of -his day; and on being asked by Lord Brougham, -the Chairman, to name his superior, he at once -said, “Lord Wellesley.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A SUGGESTION</div> - -<p>Curiously enough, there appears to be no record -of where the young nobleman boarded. Presumably -it was at Miss Naylor’s, where later came -his illustrious brother. A commemorative tablet -should surely be set up near the spot where those -two great Etonians lived when Eton boys. The -houses where a number of other prominent men -spent their school days are for the most part -known, and several others might be honoured in -a similar manner, arousing a spirit of noble emulation -and pride in a splendid record of those who -have deserved well of their country.</p> - -<p>A somewhat remarkable coincidence is that -George Canning, Gladstone, and the late Lord -Salisbury in turn boarded at the same house. In -Canning’s time the dame was Mrs. Harrington, -in Gladstone’s Mrs. Shurey, whilst in Lord -Robert Cecil’s day the Rev. G. Cookesley was in -control. Amongst modern politicians Lord Rosebery -boarded at Vidal’s, Mr. Balfour at Miss Evans’s, -Lord Curzon at Mr. Oscar Browning’s, and Mr. -Lewis Harcourt at the Rev. A. C. Ainger’s. The -room of the present Colonial Secretary was celebrated -as being the best decorated in Eton. The -writer has a vivid recollection of being impressed -by the number of well-arranged pictures which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -saw when, as a small boy, he enjoyed the honour -of being asked to breakfast there. The whole -place was full of evidences of the artistic taste -which admittedly distinguished Mr. Harcourt as -First Commissioner of Public Works.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<div id="Fig_129" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p129.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Herbert Stockhore, the “Montem Poet,” going to Salt Hill in 1823.</p></div> -</div> - - - -<h2 class="no-break">V<br /> -MONTEM</h2> - - -<p>Though even to-day a few old Etonians survive -who took part in the last Eton Montem, the -memory and the recollection of the quaint glories -of this ancient and unique festival will soon -have become totally obscured by the sordid dust -of modern life.</p> - -<p>Whilst the lover of old customs may lament -that the merry voices of Montem are drowned for -ever, it is absolutely certain that even had the -famous triennial pageant been allowed to continue -after 1844, its celebration could never have been -prolonged up to the present day in its ancient -form; for, besides being utterly out of accord with -modern ideas and ways, the ceremony would have -brought such crowds to Eton as to have rendered -any procession to Salt Hill more or less impossible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -To some, however, it may be a matter for regret -that no attempt was made to perpetuate the memory -of Montem by holding a modified festival in the -playing fields.</p> - -<p>It is all very well to denounce old customs as -merely useless relics of a bygone age. The individual -who carries such a view to an extreme -is in reality even more unreasonable than he -who delights in contemplating the past alone. -Both in their different ways are in the wrong: -the fanatical worshipper of ancient ways being apt -to lose sight of the improvements wrought by -progress, whilst he who despises antiquity forgets -that the state of society in which we live, and the -institutions of the country itself, are all derived -from preceding ages. Do or think what we will, -our ancestors are far more necessary to us than -posterity.</p> - -<p>The tumulus or mound, to which the whole -school formerly marched in procession at Whitsuntide -once in every three years, stands in a field -just off the Bath road in the hamlet known as -Salt Hill. Supposed by some to be an ancient -barrow, it appears to have never been opened, -though a portion was sliced off in 1893 when some -cottages were built close by. It seems a pity -that this hillock—the scene of so many picturesque -gatherings in the past—should not have been -preserved intact, and some memorial, inscribed with -a brief account of the ceremony of Montem, placed -upon its summit.</p> - -<div id="Fig_130" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p130.jpg" width="600" height="334" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Montem of 1823.<br /> -<em>From an old print.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE PARSON AND HIS CLERK</div> - -<p>The exact origin of “Montem” is involved in -considerable obscurity. Perhaps the most plausible -explanation is that it arose in a similar manner as -the old Winchester custom of “going on Hills.” -Another theory is that the festival was of feudal -origin, the tenure of the College estates having -been held by the payment of “salt-silver”—an -ancient legal term signifying money paid by tenants -in certain manors in lieu of service of bringing -their lord’s salt from the market. It may have -also been originally connected with the curious -ceremony of electing a “Boy-Bishop.” In a number -of old Montem Lists, which the writer has been -fortunate enough to acquire, the parson occupies -a prominent place in the procession, coming immediately -after the Captain and being followed by -the clerk. Both ecclesiastical characters, it should -be added, were always personated by Collegers, -and it was the custom for them to indulge in -gross buffoonery, the parson delivering a burlesque -sermon on Salt Hill, down which he afterwards -kicked the clerk. In 1778 this proceeding so -scandalised Queen Charlotte, who was present, -that she begged it might never occur again, and -henceforth both parson and clerk ceased to figure -in the ceremony.</p> - -<p>According to some, the original date for celebrating -Montem was December 6th, the very day -dedicated to St. Nicholas, and usually chosen for -the election of the “Boy-Bishop” in ancient times. -Be this as it may, in Elizabeth’s reign the procession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -took place about the feast of the Conversion -of St. Paul. Granted that it was ever celebrated -on St. Nicholas’ Day, those who derive it from the -“Boy-Bishop” have a coincidence of time in their -favour, whence it is not unreasonable to suppose a -connection between the triennial festival at Eton -and the ancient ecclesiastical mimicry of an episcopal -election. Another circumstance favourable to -the same supposition is found in a singular custom -which formerly made part of the Montem festival. -The parson at one period, receiving a Prayer-book, -used to read part of the Service to the crowd; which -usage bore an obvious resemblance to the mimic -services performed by the “Boy-Bishop” in the -distant past. Till 1759, when the date was -changed to Whit-Tuesday, Montem was annual; -it then became biennial, and finally after 1775 -triennial.</p> - -<p>In those days it had already assimilated some -striking features of that curious alliance of licensed -mendicity, brigandage, and gaiety—the modern -charity bazaar. Of its ancient character as a semi-religious -festival nothing remained, and it had -become a collection for the benefit of the Captain -of the Collegers who might have been fortunate -enough to obtain a vacancy at King’s College, -Cambridge.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“MONTEM-SURE”</div> - -<p>The proceedings in College which heralded -the approach of Montem were characteristic and -peculiar. In former days it was the custom that any -vacancy at King’s should be immediately announced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -at Eton by the “resignation man,” generally the -coachman of the Provost of that College, a delay -of three weeks all but a day being allowed to the -Captain of the school in which he might make his -preparations for leaving. If, however, this period -of grace should chance to expire on the very eve -of Whitsun-Tuesday Montem-day, the right of -being Captain would lapse to the Colleger who was -next on the list, so that the twentieth day before -Whitsun-Tuesday in that year was a very critical -day for the Captain and second Colleger. Till -midnight it could not be known for certain who -would be Captain. The boys called that night -“Montem-Sure Night,” when wild excitement -prevailed amongst the Collegers in Long Chamber, -and as the last stroke of midnight sounded from -the clock in Lupton’s Tower, some fifty-two stout -oaken beds would be let fall on to the floor with a -thundering crash, numberless shutters would be -slammed with furious energy, and “Montem-Sure,” -shouted by many powerful young throats, would -ring out all over Eton.</p> - -<p>Whoever was Captain of the school on the -Whitsun-Tuesday in a Montem year became -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">ipso facto</i> Captain of Montem. But, as has before -been said, the Captain of the school could not be -known for certain till within twenty days of the -eventful Whitsun-Tuesday.</p> - -<p>A King’s scholar could, if he succeeded in passing -his “election trials” every year at the end of July, -remain at Eton a twelvemonth after passing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -last examination, provided he was not yet nineteen. -If by that time he had not gone to King’s College, -Cambridge, he was superannuated, and had to leave -Eton. At the examination at the end of every -July those boys who had passed their eighteenth -birthday were placed in school order of merit, and -were called from thence to Cambridge at any time -of the year, whenever, through death, marriage, or -any cause, a vacancy occurred in the number of -the seventy members of King’s College, in order -to supply which King Henry VI. founded his -school at Eton of seventy scholars. Montem only -happened every third year, for which reason it was -only possible that a boy who was born in such a -year that he would have passed his eighteenth -birthday on the July previous to a Montem could -ever become captain of Montem, and obtain the -financial benefits accruing from the collection made -at that festival.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“SALT! SALT”</div> - -<p>William Malim, the Headmaster, who wrote an -account of Eton for the Royal Commission who -visited the school in 1561, thus described the -Montem of his day:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>About the festival of the Conversion of Saint Paul, at -nine o’clock on a day chosen by the Master, in the accustomed -manner in which they go to collect nuts in September, the -boys go ad montem. The hill is a sacred spot according to -the boyish religion of the Etonians; on account of the beauty -of the countryside, the delicious grass, the cool shade of -bowers, and the melodious chorus of birds, they make it a -holy shrine for Apollo and the Muses, celebrate it in songs, -call it Tempe, and extol it above Helicon. Here the novices -or new boys, who have not yet submitted to blows in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -Eton ranks, manfully and stoutly, for a whole year, are -first seasoned with salt and then separately described in little -poems which must be as salted and graceful as possible. -Next, they make epigrams against the new boys, one vying -with another to surpass in all elegance of speech and in -witticisms. Whatever comes to the lips may be uttered -freely so long as it is in Latin, courteous, and free from -scurrility. Finally they wet their faces and cheeks with salt -tears, and then at last they are initiated in the rites of the -veterans. Ovations follow, and little triumphs, and they -rejoice in good earnest, because their labours are past, and -because they are admitted to the society of such pleasant -comrades. These things finished they turn home at five -o’clock and after dinner play till eight.</p></blockquote> - -<p>In the days of Elizabeth, and during the -turbulent time of the Civil War, Montem -seems to have assumed a more regular and -ceremonious form. Only, however, at the beginning -of the eighteenth century did it acquire those -military characteristics which it retained with little -modification till its abolition in 1847. Till the -middle of the eighteenth century (1759) it was -held in the last week in January, but at that date -Whitsun-Tuesday was appointed as the great day. -Dr. Barnard it was who altered the dresses and -formed the boys into a regular collegiate regiment.</p> - -<p>In ancient times the collectors, that is to say the -boys who scoured the roads for miles round Eton -to collect contributions, carried large bags which -actually contained salt, a pinch of which they gave -to every contributor as a receipt. In the rough -old times, when any boorish-looking countryman -after having contributed a trifle asked for salt,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -it used to be a favourite pleasantry to fill his -mouth with it. The last Montem at which salt -was actually used seems to have been that of -1793. The cry of “Salt! Salt!” lasted long after -tickets had taken the place of the condiment, -and, indeed, endured to the end, embroidered bags -being proffered to travellers along the roads, -who, in return for contributions which varied from -fifty pounds to sixpence, were presented with -little blue tickets inscribed with one of the -Latin Montem mottoes. In the years preceding -the abolition of the ceremony, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mos pro Lege</i> and -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pro More et Monte</i> were used in alternate years. -Not infrequently people who had never heard of -the ancient custom were very much astonished at -being asked for salt. William the Third, it is said, -soon after his accession, had his carriage stopped -by Montem runners on the Bath road, and his -Dutch guards, being not unnaturally indignant at -their monarch being waylaid in such unceremonious -fashion, were only prevented from cutting down -the boys, whom they took for some kind of highwaymen, -by the King himself, who good-naturedly -gave the salt-bearers a liberal contribution.</p> - -<p>In 1706 Montem would seem to have evolved -into something of the same form which it retained -till its abolition, the organisation being of a military -kind. In that year Stephen Poyntz was -captain, Berkeley Seymour lieutenant, Theophilus -Thompson ensign, and Anthony Allen marshal, or, -as the Montem List always termed it, “mareschal.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE MARCH TO SALT HILL</div> - -<p>In connection with the ceremony, Poyntz composed -the following lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Allen pandit iter, Poyntz instruit agmen, -</div><div class="indentbase">Cogit iter Seymour Thompsonque insignia vibrat. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>I think I am right in saying that it has hitherto -escaped notice that the great Duke of Wellington -took part in an “ad Montem.” An old list in -my possession shows that at the Montem of -June 5th, 1781, Mr. Wesley, as he is termed, -marched to Salt Hill as one of the attendants of an -Upper boy named Lomax. An appended note -adds, “His Grace’s first appearance in arms.” -His sons, Lord Douro and Lord Charles Wellesley, -marched in the processions of 1820 and 1823.</p> - -<p>At the Montem of 1826 Gladstone, in order -evidently to express that sympathy for downtrodden -nations for which he was so celebrated -in after life, went to Salt Hill in Greek costume -wearing the fustanella and embroidered cap. This -was Pickering’s Montem, and owing to Gladstone -and others repressing a good deal of wanton -damage, the sum obtained for him was one of -the largest on record.</p> - -<p>The march to Salt Hill was, of course, always -somewhat tumultuous, and much licence prevailed. -As time went on efforts were made to purge the -fête of its disorderly features, but up to the very -end there was a good deal of horseplay and rowdiness -amongst the boys; indeed, at the last Montem -but one, in 1841, they did great damage to the -inns at Salt Hill, whilst it was rare that the gardens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -of these hostelries came unscathed through the -eventful day, owing to the boys slashing the plants -and bushes with their swords. If the Captain of -Montem happened to be unpopular, much damage -was often done, the boys being well aware that on -him would fall the burden of compensation, which -had to be paid out of the Montem money; and it is -said that on one occasion an unfortunate Captain -was actually out of pocket owing to the compensation -he had to pay.</p> - -<p>Montem commenced by a number of the senior -boys taking post upon the bridges or other leading -places of all the avenues around Windsor and Eton -soon after the dawn of day. These runners (or -“servitors,” as the Montem List calls them) were -indefatigable in collecting salt or money from -every one whom they came across, and for seven -or eight miles around Eton travellers were liable -to be accosted. The runners who worked in outlying -districts generally drove in a gig, being -accompanied by an attendant dressed in white—well -able to protect the runners against violence -or robbery. The total of the sums collected was -afterwards given to the two salt-bearers—one -Colleger and one Oppidan—Upper boys who -marched in the rear of the procession. In the -earlier part of the day these functionaries remained -in the precincts of College. The twelve runners -were gorgeously attired in fancy dresses of various -kinds, bright colours predominating; they wore -plumed hats and buff boots, and carried silken bags<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -strengthened with netting to hold the “salt”—that -is the money which they obtained. Their peculiar -badges of office were painted staves emblazoned -with mottoes at the top, which in most cases -consisted of short quotations from Virgil or Horace. -“Quando ita majores” was a favourite one. Occasionally, -however, the motto was modern, “Nullum -jus sine sale,” for instance. Contributors of “salt” -received in return a small dated ticket inscribed -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pro More et Monte</i> or <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mos pro Lege</i>. This, placed -in a hat or pinned on to a coat, would pass any -one free with all runners for the rest of the day.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MONTEM MORNING</div> - -<p>Nothing could have been prettier or more -animated than the old school-yard the morning -of a Montem, filled as it was with the boys in -their military uniforms of blue and red, or in fancy -dresses, for the most part of a rich and tasteful -kind. Fantastically attired Turks, Albanians, and -Highlanders mingled with courtiers and pages of -every age, an additional note of colour being -furnished by the bright dresses of numerous female -relatives and friends who had come down to Eton -to see the show. In addition to the boys in -uniform and fancy dress, a considerable number -of Lower School who followed at the end of the -procession wore the old Eton costume of blue -jacket and white trousers, only abandoned after -the death of George III. Such boys carried long -thin wands about five feet long, which after the -ceremonial were, according to immemorial usage, -cut in two by the corporals with their swords.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -Occasionally, however, some of the “polemen,” as -they were called, contrived to keep their wands intact -to the end of the day—a rare and difficult feat.</p> - -<p>At the close of the eighteenth century Montem -was often attended by Royalty. The College flag, -of rich crimson silk emblazoned with the Eton -arms and the motto <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mos pro Lege</i> within a wreath -of oak and laurel, would on the great day be displayed -at one of the Long Chamber windows early -in the morning, and at eleven o’clock George III. -would generally appear with his family, and be -received by the boys with a long-continued roar of -huzzas. The King would then be met by the -Headmaster at the entrance to the school-yard and -conducted to an elaborate breakfast, after which -the Royal party would move with the procession -towards Salt Hill, the principal scene of the day’s -display. A breakfast given by the Captain of -Montem in the College Hall continued to be one of -the features of the day right up to the last celebration -in 1844. In the <cite>Illustrated London News</cite> of -that year can be seen, amongst other interesting -pictures of the last Montem, a cut of this banquet. -The unrestored Hall is filled with guests, the -College flag being suspended above the High Table. -After the feast general exhilaration prevailed. -My cousin, Sir Algernon West—a survivor of the -last Montem, which he attended as a “poleman”—tells -me that he has an unpleasant memory of a -schoolfellow, who had partaken of the pleasures of -the table too freely, prodding him with a sword.</p> - -<div id="Fig_140" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p140.jpg" width="600" height="452" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Montem of 1841—The March round the School-Yard.<br /> -<em>Engraved by C. G. Lewis after a drawing by W. Evans.</em><br /> -<em>Print lent by D. Jay, Esq.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>The procession always commenced in the Great -Quadrangle at Eton, and proceeded through Eton -to Slough, and round to Salt Hill, where the -boys all passed before the King or Queen and -ascended the Montem; here an oration was -delivered, and the Grand Standard was displayed -with much grace and activity by the Standard-bearer, -selected from among the senior boys.</p> - -<p>There were two extraordinary salt-bearers -appointed to attend the Royalties; these salt-bearers -were always attired in fanciful habits, -generally costly and sometimes superb, and each -carried an embroidered bag, which not only received -the royal salt, but also whatever was collected by -the out-stationed runners.</p> - -<p>The donation of the King or Queen, or, as it -was called, “the royal salt,” was always fifty guineas -each; the Prince of Wales thirty guineas; all the -other Princes and Princesses twenty guineas each.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE WINDMILL</div> - -<p>As soon as the ceremony “ad Montem” was over -the Royal Family returned to Windsor. The boys -then dined in detachments—seniors separated from -juniors—in the taverns at Salt Hill, the gardens -at that place being laid out for such ladies and -gentlemen as chose to take any refreshment, whilst -several bands of music played. The “Windmill -Inn,” the garden of which was on the other side -of the road, was then often the scene of much riotous -festivity, as was a rival house—the “Castle.” -The abolition of Montem was, of course, a severe -blow to both hostelries. About twenty-five years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -ago the “Windmill” was about to be converted into -a school when a fire broke out and the old building -was destroyed. A noticeable feature of the -exterior had been some magnificent wistaria, the -stems of which were twisted into agonised shapes -by the flames. The “Castle” actually did become -a school. A large part of the original house was -pulled down in 1887 and the rest of the place -converted into a compact country residence. The -“Windmill” was known to many as “Botham’s,” -from the name of its proprietor, who in the palmy -days of Montem during the last century divided -what was a profitable monopoly with the host of the -“Castle,” Partridge by name. The latter’s charges -were so high that Foote, after partaking of some -refreshment in his hostelry, once told him that -he ought to change his name to Woodcock—“on -account of the length of his bill.”</p> - -<div id="Fig_144" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p144.jpg" width="600" height="419" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Ad Montem, 1838.<br /> -<span style="font-size:90%"><em>From a scarce coloured print in the possession of Messrs. & Robson Co., Coventry Street, W.</em></span></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">FINANCIAL RESULTS</div> - -<p>After having dined at these inns all the boys -returned in the same order of procession as in the -morning, and, marching round the Great Quadrangle -in Eton School, were dismissed. In the eighteenth -century the Captain would then go and pay his -respects to the Royal Family at the Queen’s -Lodge, Windsor, previous to his departure for -King’s College, Cambridge; to defray which expense -the produce of the Montem was presented -to him. Upon Whit-Tuesday in the year 1796 -it amounted to over one thousand guineas. -The sum, however, varied considerably in amount, -its magnitude being in a great manner determined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -by his popularity or unpopularity in the -school. In the latter case, as has been said, the -result of the collection would sometimes be a -good deal diminished by damage done in the -gardens of the inns at Salt Hill, where ill-disposed -boys would destroy the shrubs and flowers with -their swords in order to run up the bill. All the -other expenses of the day were paid for out of the -Salt, and in the latter years of Montem the total -collected generally amounted to something between -a thousand and eight hundred pounds; but when all -disbursements had been made the Captain was very -lucky if he got three or four hundred pounds. A -proof of this is that when Montem was discontinued -in 1847, Dr. Hawtrey gave the boy who would have -been Captain two hundred pounds contributed by -himself and a few friends out of their own pockets -as compensation. This sum the Headmaster had -ascertained was a fair equivalent for the net amount -usually pocketed by the Captain after all expenses -had been paid. These outgoings, it must be remembered, -were large, including as they did a breakfast -to the whole of the Fifth and Sixth Forms and -a dinner to personal friends in the evening, in -addition to which there were numerous other disbursements -which amounted to a considerable sum.</p> - -<p>In an early account of Montem <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">circa</i> 1560 there -is a reference to the new boys, termed “recentes,” -being seasoned with salt, meaning probably that -they had to make some small monetary contribution; -for up to the last Montem celebration, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -reason of a curious usage, the origin of which was -unknown, boys who had come to Eton within the -preceding year were expected to pay the Captain -a small sum called “recent-money.”</p> - -<p>At the last celebrations of Montem the order of -procession differed somewhat from that observed in -olden days. It was then headed by the marshal, -followed by six attendants; band; captain, followed -by eight attendants; sergeant-major, followed by -two attendants; twelve sergeants, two and two, -each followed by an attendant; colonel, followed -by six attendants and four polemen; corporals, -two and two, followed by two polemen apiece; -second band; ensign with flag, followed by six -attendants and four polemen; corporals, two and -two, followed by one or two polemen apiece; -lieutenant, followed by four attendants; salt-bearers, -runners, and stewards; and a poleman -brought up the rear of the procession.</p> - -<p>The flag was always solemnly waved in the -school-yard before the procession started, and on -arriving at Salt Hill it was waved a second time at -the top of the mount, the boys all clustering round -like a swarm of bees and cheering with great vigour. -Great importance was always attached to the -waving of the College standard in a proper manner, -and for a long time previous to Montem day the -Ensign practised for hours in Long Chamber. The -old traditional way of manipulating the banner was -as far as possible followed, the custom being to -wave it round in every direction and conclude by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -one triumphant final flourish which was the grand -climax of the whole celebration.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AN ETON REGIMENT</div> - -<p>A complete military organisation with regular -uniforms was adopted by the school on Montem -day, and Eton became a collegiate regiment. The -senior Colleger ranked as captain, the second salt-bearer -as marshal, the other Sixth-Form Collegers -becoming ensign, lieutenant, sergeant-major, and -steward; any other Sixth-Form Collegers not acting -as runners were sergeants. The captain of the -Oppidans was always a salt-bearer by right, whilst -the next to him on the school list was colonel; the -other Sixth-Form Oppidans ranked as sergeants. -All the Fifth-Form Oppidans were corporals and -wore red tail-coats with gilt buttons and white -trousers. They had also crimson sashes round their -waists, black leather sword-belts, and swords hanging -by their sides. A cocked hat and plume of feathers -exactly like that worn by field-officers completed -this martial attire. The Fifth-Form Collegers’ dress -was like that of the Fifth-Form Oppidans, insomuch -as they donned sash, sword, cocked hat, and plume; -but their coats were blue instead of red, so that -they resembled naval officers more than military -men. The coats of the Sixth Form, both Collegers -and Oppidans, had distinctive details of uniform -denoting rank, which could be at once distinguished -from the various forms of epaulet and great or -little prevalence of gilt. The steward wore the -ordinary full dress of the period. The Lower boys -who acted as polemen wore the old Eton costume—blue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -coats with gilt buttons, white waistcoats -and trousers, silk stockings and pumps. The pages -of the Sixth Form and others were attired in fancy -dresses, often of a rich description. A feature -of the last Montem uniforms were the buttons. -These bore the Eton arms, Royal crown, and -motto, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mos pro Lege</i>, together with the date -of the foundation of the College.</p> - -<p>Montem coats were allowed to be worn after -the great day was over, but the boys suffered for -this privilege, most masters generally selecting -them to construe in preference to their more -soberly clad schoolmates. One master, indeed, -became so notorious for this that eventually his -whole division appeared in red coats, so as to -prevent any particular boys from being singled out. -The last Montem coat worn at Eton is said to -have been observed in 1847.</p> - -<p>As a general rule pretty good order seems to -have been preserved in connection with Montem, -and this is the more wonderful when one remembers -that a large number of the boys wore real -swords and indulged in liberal potations at the -inns at Salt Hill. In 1796, it is true, some disorder -did occur near the historic mount, a large crowd -surging around the carriage in which sat the -Queen and the Princesses. George III., however, -soon put matters to rights by calling out to some of -the worst offenders, “Surely you are not Etonians?” -adding that he did not remember their faces, and -felt sure Eton boys would be better behaved.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -Three years later, at the Montem of 1799, an Eton -boy made a mistake of which he was afterwards -much ashamed. As the procession was moving -along, a visitor on a spirited and fiery horse kept -pressing closer to it than was pleasant, and one of -the sergeants, a youth named Beckett, putting one -hand significantly upon his sword-hilt and the -other on the rider’s knee, exclaimed in a bold -manner, “I should recommend you, my friend, not -to let your horse tread upon Me.” In reply to this -the horseman merely smiled, bowed, and drew his -horse away. It was afterwards discovered that the -stranger was the King of Hanover. Altogether -Montem was a day of great enjoyment for those -who were present at it, much jollity and fun of the -old English sort being one of its chief characteristics. -Most of the visitors were well acquainted -with its traditions and entered thoroughly into its -spirit. A favourite joke was to make a pretence -of refusing to contribute whilst concealing the -little blue paper receipt previously received as -quittance for salt paid.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE PLEASURES OF MONTEM</div> - -<p>“I will not attempt to reason with you about -the pleasures of Montem,” said an old Etonian, -who was defending the old festival against the -attacks of one of those hawk-eyed commercial -gamblers who, calling themselves “business men,” -dominate the modern world; “but to an Etonian it -is enough that it brought pure and ennobling recollections—evoked -associations of hope and happiness—and -made even the wise feel that there was something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -better than wisdom, and the rich something -nobler than wealth. I like to think of the faces I -saw round the old mount, recalling school friendships -and generous rivalries. At the last Montem -I attended, it is true I saw fifty fellows of whom -I remember only the nicknames—not a few -degenerated into scheming M.P.’s, cunning -lawyers, or speculators—but at Montem one -forgot all that. Leaving the plodding world of -reality for one day, such men regained the dignity -of Sixth-Form Etonians.”</p> - -<p>The last celebration of Montem took place -on Whitsun-Tuesday in 1844, on which occasion -some of its ancient features were altered. The -dinner, for instance, took place on Fellow’s Eyot, -within the College precincts, instead of at Salt -Hill, the boys having also to answer to their names -in the playing fields. An ominous sign, which -seemed to forebode that the ancient ceremony -was soon to be discontinued for ever, was -that in the last year of Montem the famous -cry of “Montem Sure” was not heard to ring -out of the Long Chamber windows, no bedsteads -crashed, and no shutters banged. Montem, it is -true, still lived, but it seemed to be felt that its end -was near. Nevertheless, the procession took place -according to immemorial usage, and the fancifully -attired throng of boys, accompanied by a crowd of -carriages, foot and horse, wended its way to the -classic mount where the ceremonial which countless -generations of Etonians had gone through was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -duly performed. Prince Albert, for instance, was -stopped on Windsor Bridge, and in compliance -with a request for salt, gave £100. At Salt Hill -the bands played merrily, and the crowd of boys -and old Etonians cheered as of yore when, for the -last time on the summit of the mount the Ensign -waved the historic College banner, inscribed with -the quaint old motto, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pro More et Monte</i>. Not -a few, however, amongst the throng gathered -there had a presentiment that they were assisting -at the obsequies of the time-honoured ceremony, -and as they wended their way back to town felt -that Montem was now to be numbered with the -many other old-world festivals which so-called -progress was sweeping away.</p> - -<p>These gloomy forebodings proved to be only -too well founded. Montem, indeed, had become -somewhat incongruous with the changed spirit -which was producing a purely utilitarian age. The -facilities afforded by the then newly constructed -railway also flooded Eton and Slough with hordes -of visitors, many of them highly undesirable, -besides which the Press was none too tender in the -attitude which it adopted towards the old festival.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE “HOLBORN MONTEM”</div> - -<p>In June 1844, for instance, <cite>Punch</cite> published -an amusing, if rather malicious, illustrated attack -upon the Eton festival, entitled “The Holborn -Montem,” in which it pictured the effect which -would be produced were a number of London -ragamuffins permitted to hold up foot-passengers -and omnibuses whilst making demands for salt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -Dr. Hawtrey, the Headmaster, was bitterly opposed -to the continuance of the old ceremony, and to -him and to the Provost it owed its abolition. The -remainder of the College authorities were about -equally divided in their opinions. When Provost -Hodgson put the matter before them they voted -as follows:—</p> - -<div class="center"> -<table class="mont" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Montem"> -<tr><td class="monttitle"><em>For abolishing Montem.</em></td><td class="monttitle"><em>For preserving Montem.</em></td></tr> -<tr><td class="montname">Hodgson, Provost.</td><td class="montname1">Plumtre.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="montname">Grover, Vice-Provost.</td><td class="montname1">Carter.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="montname">Bethell.</td><td class="montname1">Dupuis.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="montname">Green.</td><td class="montname1">Wilder.</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p>Queen Victoria personally is known to have -been opposed to the abolition; nevertheless she did -not care to interfere, and in 1847 it was announced -that no celebration of Montem would take place, -and though many earnest representations were -made by old Etonians to Dr. Hawtrey, the decision -to abolish Montem was maintained. Had the -Provost been of the same type as Dr. Goodall, some -semblance at least of the ancient ceremony would -have been preserved, but the post happened to be -held by Provost Hodgson, the friend of Byron, -who, though a man of poetical turn of mind, was -a great reformer. He made many changes in -College, and abolished the horrors of Long -Chamber, which is much to his credit. On the -other hand, he was perhaps too thorough-going in -doing away with the ancient festival of Montem, -which might have been preserved in an altered -form. <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Per se</i> it was, in many respects, indefensible,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -being full of absurdities; nevertheless it might have -been continued in some reformed and improved -shape.</p> - -<p>The abolition was keenly resented by the boys, -and on the Whit-Tuesday, when the ceremony -should have taken place, the old red flag, which had -figured at many Montems, was hung out of one of -the windows of Upper School as a signal of revolt, -and something like a riot ensued. This was, however, -in the main confined to the Lower boys, -who, after smashing a few windows (for the repair -of which their parents afterwards grumblingly -paid), were soon reduced to order.</p> - -<p>Numbers of old Etonians sadly shook their -heads when they heard that Montem had become -a thing of the past, but, as has been said, remonstrance -and protest were alike unavailing to make -the Eton authorities realise that entire abolition -was too drastic a measure.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE BONE FOR THE MARROW</div> - -<p>The truth is that at that period all over -England old-fashioned merrymaking was beginning -to be checked by the chilling force of that -utilitarian commercialism which has since dominated -the country. The modern spirit, ever prone -to exchange happiness for success, was already -making its influence felt, whilst many, under -the false impression that romance, tradition, and -fancy counted for nothing, were straining every -nerve to secure the bone whilst entirely failing to -obtain its marrow.</p> - -<p>The passing of Montem, besides causing some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -severe pangs of grief to many an old Etonian, -greatly perturbed a number of humbler folk, and -its abolition was bitterly lamented by a host of -tradesmen, cabmen, omnibus drivers, innkeepers, -and the like. Numbers of people derived either -pleasure or profit from the triennial celebration. -The most sincere mourners were the cab and -omnibus drivers, who bitterly regretted their -lost harvest, and on the anniversary of the great -festival wore black crape upon their arms.</p> - -<p>An interesting and curious exhibition of Montem -relics and costumes, it may be mentioned, was shown -at Eton in the Upper School during the celebration -of the 450th anniversary of the foundation of -the College. Of the three great Eton festivals, -Montem, Election Saturday, and the 4th of -June, the last and most modern of the three -alone survives. The proceedings on Election -Saturday, it should be added, were of a similar -kind to those which still take place on the birthday -of King George the Third—that is to say, -the boats’ crews wore gala dresses and dined at -Surly, after which there were fireworks, whilst -the bells of Windsor pealed and the crews cheered.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MONTEM ODES</div> - -<p>Before leaving the subject of Montem a few -words may not be out of place as to a quaint -character who was known to many generations -of Etonians as the Montem poet. This was -Herbert Stockhore, who, dressed in quaint attire -in a donkey-cart, was a prominent feature at all -Montem celebrations from 1784 to 1835, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -he was ninety. Before being chosen Montem -poet Stockhore was a Windsor bricklayer living in -a little house built by himself, which he called -Mount Pleasant, in a lane leading from Windsor -to the meadows.</p> - -<p>On the 4th of June good old George III. -always presented Stockhore with a present of -gold, and George IV. continued the kindly practice. -At other times Stockhore subsisted entirely upon -the bounty of the Etonians and the inhabitants of -Windsor and Eton, who never failed to administer -to his wants and liberally supply him with many -little comforts in return for his harmless pleasantries.</p> - -<p>Stockhore had a time-honoured method of composing -his odes well calculated to ensure their -favourable reception. The quality of his versification -was, of course, very moderate. It may be -judged from the following, culled from the Montem -Ode of 1826 (Pickering’s year):—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentone">I, Herbert Stockhore, once more, -</div><div class="indentone">In spite of age and pains rheumatic, -</div><div class="indentone">Hop down to “Montem” with verses Attic, -</div><div class="indentone">To make the Muse as have done before. -</div><div class="indentbase">For why should I lie a-bed groaning and bickering -</div><div class="indentbase">When I ought to be up to sing Captain Pickering. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>A happier effort, perhaps, was his greeting to -George III.:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">And now we’ll sing -</div><div class="indentbase">God save the king, -</div><div class="indentone">And send him long to reign, -</div><div class="indentbase">That he may come -</div><div class="indentbase">To have some fun -</div><div class="indentone">At Montem once again. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>It is not, however, on account of his rhymes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -that Stockhore deserves to be remembered, but -on account of the fact that he was one of the last -of those lowly-born characters who by their native -wit, good-humour, and kindly eccentricity secured -a unique place in the affections of many far above -them in rank, intellect, and wealth. The Board -School has now rendered all such humble types -extinct.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">HERBERT STOCKHORE</div> - -<p>Stockhore had originally been a sailor, and some -said also a soldier. At any rate on “Montem” -day he wore a fancy robe of various colours thrown -over his old military coat, with trimmings of divers -cotton ribbons. An extemporised coronet, encircled -with bay and crowned with feathers, completed -a costume which astounded visitors unaware -of the bard’s identity. His eccentric though harmless -habits rendered him a popular character with -the Eton boys, and his recitation of a Montem -Ode was always warmly applauded, and owing to -the sale of his doggerel and the contributions he -received the old man led a fairly comfortable -existence. His way was first of all to set down -upon paper the names of those about to take part -in “Montem” and other details furnished to him -by some one in a position to know, after which he -would compose a rough jumble of rhyming lines. -This was then submitted to some Colleger, who -undertook its revision, and was printed for the -author to vend, which he did at a very remunerative -price; it also formed an excuse for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -extraction of coins from old friends and visitors -to Eton. Stockhore, though in his latter years, -like his rhymes, much given to limping, was able -to attend the Montem of 1835, at which time he -had reached the great age of ninety.</p> - -<p>At the next one, held in 1838, though still alive, -being too feeble to go, he was represented at the -great festival by a man named Ryder. Three -years later, in 1841, Stockhore passed away, aged -ninety-six years. The boys then chose Edward -Irvine by vote, but though he or some other -claimant was still hanging about Eton half a -century ago, the office really died with Stockhore, -for his successors had no trace of the quaint and -simple individuality which had been known to -many generations of Etonians, one of whom, a -few years before the famous Montem poet’s death, -composed the following lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Be Herbert Stockhore all my theme, -</div><div class="indentone">The laureate’s praises I indite; -</div><div class="indentbase">He erst who sung in Montem’s praise, -</div><div class="indentone">And Thespis like, from out his cart -</div><div class="indentbase">Recited his extempore lays -</div><div class="indentone">On Eton’s sons, in costume smart, -</div><div class="indentbase">Who told of captains bold and grand, -</div><div class="indentone">Lieutenants, marshals, seeking salt; -</div><div class="indentbase">Of colonels, majors, cap in hand, -</div><div class="indentone">Who bade e’en majesty to halt; -</div><div class="indentbase">Told how the ensign nobly waved -</div><div class="indentone">The colours on the famous hill; -</div><div class="indentbase">And names from dull oblivion saved, -</div><div class="indentone">Who ne’er the niche of fame can fill; -</div><div class="indentbase">Who, like to Campbell, lends his name -</div><div class="indentone">To many a whim he ne’er did write;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -</div><div class="indentbase">When witty scholars, to their shame, -</div><div class="indentone">’Gainst masters hurl a satire trite. -</div><div class="indentbase">But fare thee well, Ad Montem’s bard, -</div><div class="indentone">Farewell, my mem’ry’s early friend; -</div><div class="indentbase">May misery never press thee hard, -</div><div class="indentone">Ne’er may disease thy steps attend; -</div><div class="indentbase">Be all thy wants by those supply’d, -</div><div class="indentone">Whom charity ne’er fail’d to move; -</div><div class="indentbase">Etona’s motto, crest, and pride, -</div><div class="indentone">Is feeling, courage, friendship, love. -</div><div class="indentbase">Poor harmless soul, thy merry stave -</div><div class="indentone">Shall live when nobler poets bend; -</div><div class="indentbase">And when Atropos to the grave -</div><div class="indentone">Thy silvery locks of grey shall send, -</div><div class="indentbase">Etona’s sons shall sing thy fame, -</div><div class="indentone">Ad Montem still thy verse resound, -</div><div class="indentbase">Still live an ever-cherished name, -</div><div class="indentone">As long as salt and sock abound. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>The “famous hill” alluded to in these verses -now presents a most melancholy appearance, its -summit being vulgarised by a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">châlet</i> of miserable -design, whilst, as has been said, the glory of the -Inns close by has long departed. For some time -after Montem days, however, the Windmill -(Botham’s) seems to have been an occasional resort -of Etonians, for an interesting oak table (saved -from the fire), which is now in the possession of the -popular Master—Mr. Edward Littleton Vaughan—has -carved upon it the names of some seventy -well-known Etonians, besides initials, and dates, -mostly ranging from 1845 to 1857. It would -therefore seem that, contrary to tradition, the names -were not carved after Montem, but are rather those -of boys who frequented Botham’s, as their predecessors -had frequented the old Christopher.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VI<br /> -THE COLLEGE BUILDINGS</h2> - - -<p>In the course of the various changes which Eton -has undergone, the old Quadrangle (till 1706 not -paved but grass), which in old Montem days was -gay with a riot of high-spirited youth, has, on the -whole, escaped disfiguring alteration. The original -intention of the founder was to have a cloister -in the Quadrangle; and a line of lead running -beneath the windows, together with some foundations -discovered in 1876, lead one to suppose that -such a scheme was actually begun. On the whole, -the general aspect of the school-yard, which -enthusiastic Etonians regard as a sort of “rose-red -city half as old as time,” remains unaltered. -New, however, are the pinnacles of the Chapel -and the Gothic window of the Hall.</p> - -<p>Within the last hundred years almost the only -drastic changes have been those in its exterior, -the western end of which was remodelled at the -restoration of 1858, and the construction of a bow -window for the master residing in College, whose -rooms are on the left-hand side of the Quadrangle, -at the end of what was formerly the ancient Long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -Chamber. Otherwise there is small evidence of -change. The brickwork retains its old mellowed -colouring, and the founder’s statue remains as grimy -as ever, though perhaps a trifle less black than in -the days when its sable hue convinced the small -child of one of the College officials that Henry VI. -had been a black man. The infant in question, as a -loyal son of Eton, had been taught to salute this -statue (which, according to old custom, should -always be passed on the right-hand side) whenever -he went through the school-yard. Out for an airing -with its nurse in Windsor one day, the child, -perceiving a private of one of the West India -Regiments, became convinced that it was Henry -VI. in the flesh. Solemnly rising in its perambulator -and reverently exclaiming “Founder,” the -astounded soldier was accorded a salute which -filled him with amazement.</p> - -<p>The feature of the Quadrangle, of course, is the -fine tower of Provost Lupton, under which at -Election time, up to 1871, the Provost of Eton -was wont to greet the Provost of King’s with a -kiss of peace, and the Captain of the school to -deliver his Latin Cloister Speech. The gates here -are closed on the death of a Provost, and not -opened till his successor is appointed. Carved -above the window of Election Chamber, over the -gateway, is a representation of the Assumption -of the Virgin, to which in pre-Reformation days -Collegers reverently raised their hats.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE GREEN YARD</div> - -<p>Passing through this arch one reaches the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -cloisters, about which linger so many old-world -memories. Once known as the “tower cloister,” -this appellation seems in the eighteenth century -to have been discarded for that of “the Green -Yard.” The railings here, of Sussex iron, were -put up in 1724-25.</p> - -<div id="Fig_158" class="figcenter" style="width: 526px;"> -<img src="images/i_p158.jpg" width="526" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Cloisters of Eton College.<br /> -<em>From a coloured print dated 1816.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">CHANGES IN CLOISTERS</div> - -<p>A good many alterations have recently been -carried out in this part of the College, some of -which have of necessity rather impaired its old-world -charm.</p> - -<p>On the cloister side of Lupton’s Tower a -strengthening arch and support have been built -to guard against possible subsidence, some signs -of which had begun to appear. In the cloisters -also certain expedient changes and renovations -have also been made.</p> - -<p>During the middle of the eighteenth century -an additional storey was added to the cloister -buildings, and, owing to the narrowness of the -structure, communication between the new storey -and the old was eventually effected by affixing a -staircase to the outside wall, in which a hole was -made to give entrance to the staircase. This -staircase has now been entirely removed, and a -new staircase between the first and second floors -fitted in two flights, each stretching the whole -breadth of the building. Election Hall now -occupies practically the whole of the space between -Lupton’s Tower and the north side of school-yard. -Formerly there was a small room at the tower -end, and a passage past this room communicating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -with Election Chamber on the lowest floor of the -tower. This room is now part of Election Hall, -most of the passage having disappeared, whilst the -beautiful oak panelling has been removed to the -new staircase. The roof of Election Hall is now -higher than of yore, the increased size of the room -and the bad state of the roof having called for such -an alteration. The room over Election Chamber -has been converted into a sitting-room, and the -partitions in it have been removed, so that it is -now the same size as Election Chamber and looks -out both ways. The clock remains unchanged. -In the remoter part of the house the passage has -been widened, and the walls have been stripped of -the plaster and now show the old timber. A new -door has also been made under the tower, giving -access to a staircase which leads straight up to the -first floor.</p> - -<p>The Provost’s Lodge has also undergone some -change. The dining-room here—the Magna -Parlura—which contains portraits of various kings -and provosts and occupies the centre of the Lodge, -has undergone considerable renovation at certain -periods, especially in the middle of the last century, -when it was decorated with considerable care by -Dr. Hawtrey. The ceiling was then painted and -the panelling, reaching to the top of the room, -finished with a dado of deal, which has now been -removed, and the oak, which before was grained, -scraped. The panelling has also been lowered and -now rests on the floor, the old timbers above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -being visible. Two stone windows have been -opened up in this room, which had formerly been -blocked by the Georgian staircase. At the other -end of the room an interesting discovery was made -of another Tudor door opening into the gallery just -opposite the stairs. On each side of the door are -Tudor windows with wooden frames. Most of the -doors opening into the gallery are of Tudor workmanship, -but these are the only two Tudor windows -that have been discovered in the College. The -woodwork half-way down the staircase is of good -Gothic workmanship, whereas the staircase is of -much later date. The servants’ hall, on the ground -floor, was formerly divided by partitions, but these -have been removed. The panelling here is of the -seventeenth century, the panels large and tall in -design. At one end of the room there is an alcove -faced with the original mirrors and containing a -basin set in beautiful inlaid work of black and -white marble. This, however, is covered up with -a wooden plate, which conceals the marble.</p> - -<p>At the time of these alterations there was some -talk of removing the railings in the cloisters, which -are of Sussex iron, and reviving an inner walk, -traces of which have been discovered round the -edge of the grass. On the tower side the railings -have already gone—the remainder, let us hope, -will be left untouched. A great feature of the -cloisters is the old Cloister Pump, which, as in -the days when a less luxurious race of Collegers -washed at its spout, continues to yield the best<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -water in Eton. This old pump is associated with -the cry of “Cloister P!” at which the lowest boy -present had to fetch a canful of the sacred water, -the cry which sent every fag in Long Chamber -tearing down Sixth-Form passage. Not very far -away is the well-worn stone staircase up which so -many generations of Collegers have made their way -into the Hall, which, in spite of renovation, still -retains a certain amount of interest for those fond -of relics of another age.</p> - -<p>A considerable portion of the existing structure -dates from about 1450, and to some extent follows -the design favoured by King Henry VI. The -founder’s original idea, however, was that a northern -bay window should face the southern one. He -also contemplated a porch with a tower over it. -One must be thankful that at the restoration of -1858 the College authorities did not attempt to -carry out these plans.</p> - -<p>The early architectural history of the Hall is -somewhat puzzling. For some undiscovered reason -it was begun in stone and finished in brick, whilst -three large fireplaces were constructed but never -used, being covered with panelling till the so-called -restoration of the last century. In 1721 some -alterations were carried out according to the plan -of a Mr. Rowland, but from that time till 1858 the -Hall remained as it is shown in the <a href="#Fig_164">illustration -facing page 164</a>. At that date, however, the -Rev. Mr. Wilder, the Fellow who had contributed -so liberally to the modernisation of the interior of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -the College Chapel, turned his attention to the old -building, which was restored at his expense. It -is to be regretted that a good deal of Renaissance -work of historical interest then disappeared, -retaining some features of the original design -constructed in its place.</p> - -<p>For some unexplained reason (apparently it was -in fair repair) the old roof was destroyed, and a -new one substituted. The simple three-light -Renaissance west window, with a curious ornamented -ledge beneath, gave way to an elaborate -Gothic window, filled with stained glass representing -the very “apocryphal” story of Henry VII.’s -Eton days. Beneath this was erected an elaborate -screen of panelling, decorated with the arms of successive -provosts. The rest of the old panelling was -allowed to remain, though, owing to a very thorough -process of renovation, a great proportion of the -present woodwork is modern. Along the top of the -panelling may still be seen a number of old nails. -From these, according to an old Eton custom, -Collegers at Shrovetide used to hang scrolls of -Bacchus verses which were suspended by coloured -ribbons. These Bacchus verses, written in praise -or abuse of the jovial deity, continued to be -written in the earlier portion of the last century, -though by that time their character had changed.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">BACCHUS VERSES</div> - -<p>The art of verse-writing was held in the -highest esteem at Eton, and was, together with -accurate prosody, the road to distinction. False -quantities were considered crimes. In the <cite>Etonian</cite><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -Praed had some clever lines as to this in his poem, -“The Eve of Battle”:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">And still in spite of all thy care, -</div><div class="indentbase">False quantities will haunt thee there, -</div><div class="indentbase">For thou wilt make amidst the throng -</div><div class="indentbase">Or <a id="Ref_164"></a>ζωή short or κλέος long. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>A copy of Bacchus verses composed by Porson -on the subject of Cyrus exulting over captive -Babylon is preserved in the library. Pepys noted -these Bacchus verses in 1666:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>To the Hall, and there find the boys’ verses, “De Peste,” -it being their custom to make verses at Shrovetide. I read -several, and very good they were, better, I think, than ever -I made when I was a boy, and in rolls as long, or longer, -than the whole Hall by much. Here is a picture of -Venice hung up, and a monument made by Sir H. Wotton’s -giving it to the College.</p></blockquote> - -<p>This picture was moved many years ago, and -now hangs in Election Hall. Beneath it is the -following inscription:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Henricus Wottonius post tres apud Venetos Legationes -ordinarias in Etonensis Collegii beato sinu senescens, eiusque -cum suavissima inter Se Sociosque concordia annos iam XII. -Praefectus Hanc miram Vrbis quasi natantis effigiem in -aliquam sui memoriam iuxta Socialem Mensam affixit, -1636.</p></blockquote> - -<p>On the picture itself may be seen the words, -“Opus Odoardus Fialettus, 1611.”</p> - -<p>Near the oriel window there still stands the -iron reading-desk from which in old times a scholar -used to read out passages of Holy Writ. In early -days he appears to have been known as “the -Bibler.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">BURNT TAPESTRY</div> - -<p>Before the restoration of the Hall two pieces of -tapestry given by a Fellow—Adam Robyns—in -1613 used to be hung beneath the west window at -Election time. They represented the flight into -Egypt and Christ teaching in the Temple. When -the Hall had been restored and the ornate modern -panelling or screen set up where this tapestry used -to hang, it was relegated to the bake-house. This -was burnt in 1875, and the tapestry, together with -the green rugs given to the Collegers by the Duke -of Cumberland in 1735, were utterly destroyed in -the conflagration. These rugs or coverlets were -edged with gold braid and embroidered with the -College arms.</p> - -<div id="Fig_164" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p164.jpg" width="600" height="456" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The College Hall before Restoration.<br /> -<em>From an old print.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>Up to the period of the modern alterations the -Hall was warmed by a circular charcoal brazier -standing beneath the louvre or opening in the roof. -In 1858, however, the three large fireplaces discovered -behind the panelling were taken into use; -they had never had chimneys before. Hot-water -pipes now also assist to warm the Hall.</p> - -<p>On the walls hang some eighteen portraits, all -of Collegers except two, representing George III. -and Sir Thomas Smith. The Rev. John Wilder, -the well-meaning Fellow who spent such large -sums of money in altering and restoring Hall and -Chapel, is commemorated by a brass in the south-west -corner.</p> - -<p>On the right in the Hall is a small table called -the “Servitor’s Desk.” The duty attached to the -old office of Servitor consists in noting down in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -book the commons allowed for each day’s dinner -according to the number actually dining in Hall. -He counts by “messes” and “half-messes,” a mess -consisting of four boys. It is the practice of most -Servitors to carve their name on the desk, and -among the names carved are those of A. C. Benson, -author and poet, and J. K. Stephen.</p> - -<p>A few of the old customs are retained, the -authorities still sitting at the high table at the -west end. The Sixth Form sit at the first table -on the left side, carving their own joint; one of -them says Grace, shouting “Surgite! Benedicat -Deus” at the beginning of the meal, and “Surgite! -Benedicatur Deo” at the end, when the others -reply, “Deo Gratias.” On Sundays a Latin Grace -is chanted. The fare of Collegers formerly consisted -almost<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> exclusively of mutton, from which -arose the term “Tug-mutton,” and “Tug” applied -to a King’s scholar.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“HARPY-PIES”</div> - -<p>Within the last three decades three ancient -usages have been abandoned. The first of these -was “Bever,” which was abolished in 1890. “Bever” -consisted in a modest collation of bread and salt -and beer in “after fours” in the summer; Collegers -might partake of this if they wished, and were -allowed to invite guests. A second old usage -which disappeared about the same time was that of -certain boys receiving a double allowance of bread. -Though most of the old oak panelling of Hall was -replaced by new in 1858, amongst the old panels<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -was one which for more than three hundred years -had proclaimed the privilege of the mess of four -boys which dined nearest to the door on the north -side of the Hall, “Queen Elizabethe ad nos gave -October x 2 loves in a mes 1596,” being roughly -inscribed upon it. Commemorating the munificence -of the virgin Queen for more than three -hundred years, two loaves, instead of the customary -one loaf, were set before the four boys sitting near -the panel. This practice has now been ended. -The third old custom was of a far less pleasant -character, and its disappearance is not to be -deplored. Formerly, after the Collegers had -dined, a number of old almswomen were allowed -to collect the remains, and in consequence the -Hall was at certain times thronged with a mass of -old women thrusting chunks of bread and scraps -of broken meat into bags. The whole thing was -a somewhat unseemly scramble. The boys were -often not very well disposed to the harpies, as they -called the old ladies, and would wickedly make -them what were known as “hag-traps” and “harpy-pies.” -The composition of these was a masterpiece -of diabolical ingenuity. A large square piece of -bread or quarter loaf having had its centre hollowed -out by means of a hole in the side, the interior was -cunningly filled with an unsavoury mixture of -mustard, pepper, cayenne, and whatever else came -to hand, after which the opening was cleverly -closed so that the bread might present a totally -unsuspicious appearance and then left lying about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -amongst genuine loaves. Though the old ladies -had considerable experience of various disagreeable -forms of College humour, this wicked device always -secured a certain amount of success. At the -present time the female pensioners are given a -small monetary allowance in place of being allowed -to enter the Hall.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AN UNAPPRECIATED POET</div> - -<p>The Upper School occupies the whole of the -west side of the school-yard, with the exception of -the space covered by the headmaster’s room at the -north end. It was originally built by Provost -Allestree, but so faultily that it had to be rebuilt -under his successor, Provost Cradock, in 1694. -Though by some attributed to him, the architect -was probably not Sir Christopher Wren; yet -the style adopted, very different from that of -the other buildings in the school-yard, is that -associated with his name. Though now only rarely -used, Upper School was formerly the principal -class-room of Eton, and at the beginning of the -nineteenth century no less than 400 boys were -taught there at the same time. The ground floor -beneath is now occupied by rooms which in the -last century were considered quite good enough -to accommodate large “divisions,” but have now -been turned into a “school office,” a porter’s lodge, -and store-rooms of various kinds. On the floor -above is the “Upper School” itself, approached at -the south end by a fine staircase—a well-proportioned -room, lined with oak panelling which has -served for the recording of many Eton names, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -adorned with the busts of Etonians who have -served their country. The first of these busts was -put up in 1840, when the Marquess Wellesley -presented his to the school—his brother, the Duke -of Wellington, shortly afterwards following his -example. Most of the great Etonians are here, -including Shelley. It is said that when the idea -of erecting the poet’s bust was first mooted, Dr. -Hornby objected, saying that Shelley was a bad -man, and he only wished he had been educated at -Harrow. The memory of this poet—in former -days, at least—was not held in any particular -respect by the vast majority of Etonians, most of -whom held much the same views about him as -have been attributed to Dr. Hornby.</p> - -<p>Some thirty years ago, when the subject of -the amenities of Eton was being discussed by -a House Debating Society, an Upper boy—now -a well-known Peer—brought the debate to a close -with a breezy speech. Eton, he said, was in his -opinion a very good place; all boys were happy -there, or ought to be. As far as he could make -out, all boys always had been happy there, and -he had only heard of one who wasn’t, and that -was “a boy called Shelley, who was a mad fool.” -He then sat down amidst applause.</p> - -<p>An immense quantity of names are cut on the -woodwork of Upper School. Most of these are -those of boys who became famous in after life. -The name of Charles James Fox, for instance, is -to be seen beneath his bust. Gladstone’s may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -easily be recognised among a number of other -names of the same family by the fact that there -was not sufficient room left for the whole name, -and consequently the last three letters are cut -much smaller than the rest. Lord Roberts’s name -is on the large south door, and Shelley’s under -Lord Wellesley’s bust, to the right, and again high -up, to the left, beneath his own bust. Gladstone’s -name, it should be added, is on the upper right-hand -panel of the door which stands to the left -as you face the Headmaster’s desk in the Upper -School. His sons have their names cut on the -same door close by. This carving was not done -by Gladstone himself, but by Dr. Keate’s servant -in requital for a fee. Originally boys, before leaving, -cut their names where they liked in Upper -School. Later on, as in the writer’s time, it was -the custom on leaving to present the Headmaster’s -servant with a guinea to have this done. The -present practice seems to be that for half a guinea -a specially appointed official cuts a boy’s name. -Close to Upper School, on the top of the staircase -leading to the Headmaster’s room, may be seen the -name Lord Dalmeny cut twice on the left, opposite -the door; the older is that of Lord Rosebery, the -newer that of his son.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">LOWER SCHOOL</div> - -<p>The original Eton schoolroom was the present -Lower School, which happily remains practically in -its original state. The exact date of its erection is -uncertain, but it would appear to have been built -somewhere about the end of the fourteenth century.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -According to an old tradition Lower School was -once the College stables, and it was Sir Henry -Wotton who, when Provost, fitted it up with -pillars, on which he is supposed to have painted -pictures of Greek and Roman authors for the -instruction of the boys. This quaint old room was -formerly open for its full length, and looked very -picturesque with its double row of oaken pillars -supporting the floor of the chamber above, and -deeply recessed windows, the oaken shutters, as -well as the pillars, graven with the names of former -Etonians. For two centuries it was the only -schoolroom. In recent times, for convenience of -teaching, it has been turned into three rooms by -means of deal partitions. These, however, being -merely temporary erections, have not injured the -ancient fabric of the room. Many generations of -boys have amused themselves by poking pens and -knives into the deep chinks of the pillars and -spearing out bits of paper that had been thrust in -there by boys of bygone times. Mr. Brinsley -Richards has described how, as a boy at Eton, he -extracted the fragment of a play-bill, issued by a -strolling troupe who performed at Windsor Fair in -1769. In the writer’s day many a boy, unconsciously -imbued with that love of sending messages -to posterity which is such a characteristic of youth, -would write his name upon a scrap of paper and -poke it deep into a hole or cranny.</p> - -<p>Numerous names carved on the shutters and -pillars of this room are striking links with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -remote past. The names in question, it would -appear, are in the vast majority of instances those -of Collegers elected from Eton to King’s. They -begin on the westernmost window on the north -side, the earliest name discoverable being that of -Kemp, 1577, somewhere about the middle of the -shutter. On the first shutter on the left-hand side -of the third room is the mark of a name which has -been erased. This is supposed to have been that -of Greenhall, who, leaving King’s College, became -a highwayman and was captured, hanged, and -dissected.</p> - -<p>Samuel Pepys, who visited Eton in 1666, was -very pleased with Lower School. This favourable -impression is recorded in his diary:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>All mighty fine. The School good, and the custom -pretty of boys cutting their names in the shuts of the -window when they go to Cambridge, by which many a one -hath lived to see himself a Provost and Fellow, that hath his -name in the window standing.</p></blockquote> - -<p>Over Lower School was the ancient “Long -Chamber,” now turned into the junior Collegers’ -dormitory. It once extended the whole length of -the school-yard, with the exception of the space -occupied by the Headmaster’s chamber at the west -end, and that of the Lower Master at the east. -Its length was considerably lessened in 1844, and -since that time it has been divided by partitions -into “stalls” or “cubicles,” so that little of the -original appearance of the interior remains.</p> - -<p>When Long Chamber was broken up into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -cubicles, old Plumtre, one of the Fellows, preached -a sermon on the text, “And Elisha said, Let -every man take unto himself a beam, for the place -we have made is too strait for us.” Plumtre was -a staunch old Tory, who hated the Reform Bill. -For one whole night he walked round and round -the Eton cloisters, praying and waiting for the -expected news of its defeat.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE CHAPEL</div> - -<p>The Eton College Chapel was built in 1441, the -foundation-stone being laid by King Henry VI. in -person on Passion Sunday of that year. It was -finished by Waynflete, who was Eton’s benefactor -till his death in 1484. Owing no doubt to lack of -means, the latter curtailed the original design, which -provided for a nave 168 feet long stretching down -what is now Keate’s Lane and finished the building -with the Ante-Chapel, which still remains. A -wooden rood-loft was erected over the chancel -arch, with a crucifix between wooden figures of -St. Mary and St. John, whilst stalls and frescoes, -ordered to be wiped out in 1560, completed an -interior which must have been beautiful and -picturesque. Lupton’s Chapel, in which is Provost -Lupton’s brass, was built by him in 1515. Here is -now the tablet giving the names of those who fell -in the South African War.</p> - -<p>At the time of the Reformation there was -naturally a good deal of iconoclastic destruction, -and at the end of the seventeenth century the -Chapel had suffered severely from dilapidation and -neglect. In 1699-1700, under Provost Godolphin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -however, a general remodelling of the Chapel had -been undertaken, it would seem probable, under -the direction of Wren. In the course of the -alterations the floor would appear to have been -raised, whilst the walls were covered nearly up to -the windows with panelling of simple though good -design. A classical organ-loft with fine decorative -carving was at that time placed across the choir -near the second window from the west end.</p> - -<p>During the eighteenth century the interior of -the Eton Chapel evoked nothing but praise, but -with the mania for restoration which characterised -the Victorian era, some desire for drastic alterations -began to make itself felt. Whilst the -general appearance of the Chapel was dignified -and stately, there were undoubtedly certain disfigurements, -the chief amongst them two great -box-like pews at the east end, specially allotted -to the male and female College servants. An -elaborate altar-piece of inlaid wood, entirely concealing -the east end, though good of its kind, -was somewhat heavy and out of place. Good -or bad, however, all the woodwork was soon to -disappear.</p> - -<div id="Fig_174" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p174.jpg" width="600" height="371" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Old Oak Panelling formerly in Eton Chapel, now in Entrance Hall of Frampton Court, Dorset.</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">“NOBS”</div> - -<p>In 1842, when the so-called Gothic revival first -began to sweep over England, destroying much -worthy to be preserved and creating comparatively -little of artistic merit, it was determined to -restore the Chapel. At first this was limited to -tearing down the classical altar-piece, pews, and -panelling at the east end and erecting ponderous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -so-called Gothic altar rails, pulpit, and the like, all -of stone. These, however, were discarded a few -years later, when, in 1847, a regular scheme of -destruction and innovation was undertaken by -Deeson, one of whose chief artistic crimes was -tearing down the noblemen’s stalls, then standing -against the walls at the western end. Up to the -so-called restoration of 1847, boys who were -noblemen or baronets used to occupy special -seats of honour ranged along the Chapel walls. -When one of these privileged youths—known as -“Nobs”—first took his seat in one of these stalls -he would, according to immemorial custom, distribute -amongst his neighbours small packets of -almonds and raisins, called “Chapel sock,” which -were eaten in the Chapel itself. These seats, finely -designed with carving at the top, were ruthlessly -torn down, whilst no exact record of their appearance -was preserved. A considerable portion of the -panelling, which formerly covered the east end, -adorns the hall at Frampton Park, Dorchester, but -the writer has been unable to trace the noblemen’s -seats which were swept away to make room for the -present stalls.</p> - -<p>The behaviour of the College authorities in -having discarded work of high artistic interest, -probably designed by Wren, is much to be deplored. -The evidence as to Wren having designed -the panelling is not absolutely conclusive, but much -leads one to think that he was concerned in its -design. The Mr. Banks, “surveyor,” whose name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -has been preserved as the designer of the costly -woodwork, is probably identical with Matthew -Bankes, “master carpenter,” who, under Wren’s -direction, carried out the interior decoration and -fitting of Kensington Palace, Hampton Court, -and other historical buildings.</p> - -<div id="Fig_176" class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> -<img src="images/i_p176.jpg" width="410" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Carved and Decorated Organ Case formerly in Eton Chapel.<br /> -<em>Specially photographed for this work with the kind permission of the Very Rev. Felix Couturier, -Prior of the Dominican Monastery of St. Thomas, Rugeley.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">THE OLD ORGAN CASE</div> - -<p>The huge organ-loft, about twenty-five feet in -depth, was approached by a flight of steps, which -Provost Godolphin placed across the church within -the choir. This loft or screen was a very fine piece -of work, with fluted columns of oak, two of which -are preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum, -and elaborate carving, by Grinling Gibbons, -much resembling the one which still remains at -Trinity College, Cambridge. The organ-case, -which, curiously enough, has hitherto escaped all -detailed notice in books about Eton, was of oak, -and consisted of four towers and three flats -of pipes—the pipe shades, lower frieze scrolls, side -brackets and centre shield of arms being beautifully -carved and well designed, while characteristically -English in style. Above was a scroll -ending in a point, for the carving of which -Bird (who executed much fine woodwork under -the direction of Sir Christopher Wren) was paid -£24 in 1703. The organ itself, built by either -William Smith or Father Smith, was erected in -1700, and cost a large sum of money for that day. -This organ and its beautiful case is specially -mentioned in <cite>Organ-Cases and Organs of the -Middle Ages and Renaissance</cite>, the erudite and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -artistic work written and illustrated by the -greatest English authority on the subject, Mr. -A. G. Hill, who speaks of the old Eton College -organ as being perhaps the best of all similar -organs still remaining in England. It may be -mentioned that the example formerly at Whitehall, -and now in St. Peter’s Church at the Tower of -London, much resembles it. After the Eton Chapel -restoration of 1844-1847 this old organ, with its -beautiful case, was discarded in order to make -way for a new one which was placed half-way -up the choir on the south side. No one seems -to have thought the old organ worth preserving, -and the case was eventually found by a member -of the famous organ-building firm of Hill, lying -about in bits in the yard of those who had taken -it down. Mr. Hill at once recognised the high -artistic value of the magnificent woodwork, and, -after the various portions of the case had been -fitted together, adapted it to a new organ, which -passed into the possession of the late Mr. Josiah -Spode, of Hawkesyard Park, Rugeley, who put -it up in his hall. Mr. Spode left his property -to his niece, with a proviso that at her death a -certain portion should be applied to founding a -monastery. This lady, however, preferred to -carry out this wish during her own lifetime, and, -expending a far larger sum than was stipulated -by the will, founded at Rugeley the Dominican -Monastery of St. Thomas, in the beautiful chapel -of which the old Eton organ-case was put up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -In connection with its history it is curious to -recall that this splendid specimen of Jacobean -woodwork was thrown out of the Eton Chapel -because it was supposed to be “out of place” -in a Gothic building. The Chapel at Rugeley is -a singularly successful example of modern Gothic -at its best, and the organ-case accords perfectly -with its surroundings. A feature of the old -case, adorned with scrolls and carvings lovingly -wrought by the hand of a master craftsman of -a past age, is its heraldic embellishment, the -ornamentation including three shields bearing -coats of arms. The large central one at the -top shows the Royal arms of England, enriched -by the legend “Honi soit qui mal y pense.” -The smaller left-hand shield in the hands of -an angel at the bottom of the case bears the -familiar arms of Eton, whilst another on the right-hand -side shows those of the sister foundation of -King’s.</p> - -<p>After the Eton authorities had cleared their -Chapel of all the old Jacobean woodwork, they -turned their attention to the roof, it being at -first proposed to construct a new one of stone. -Happily, however, fear of the Chapel collapsing -checked such a scheme, and the architect, Deeson, -merely stripped the paint and plaster from the -roof, whilst adding some pseudo-Gothic cusping.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A RUTHLESS RESTORATION</div> - -<p>The interior of the Chapel as it appeared before -1700 in no wise resembled that which we at present -see. Mural monuments abounded about the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -chancel; these, after being concealed by the -wainscoting put up in 1700, were ruthlessly torn -from their places by those responsible for the -restoration of 1847. Some of them are in the -Ante-Chapel, others were totally swept away. In -the original Chapel there were probably only -benches at the east end, whilst low wooden -stalls with miserere seats occupied the place of -the present seats crowned by canopies. The -only remnants of the ancient woodwork appear -to be some old wooden forms in the Ante-Chapel, -on which boys now leave their hats. It is recorded -that in 1625 Thomas Weaver, a “Fellow,” -gave “four strong forms to stand in the aisles -of the Church for the townsmen to sit on.” The -seats in question, it should be added, seem originally -to have been intended for the townspeople -of Eton, who then attended the Chapel as their -parish church.</p> - -<div id="Fig_184" class="figcenter" style="width: 504px;"> -<img src="images/i_p184.jpg" width="504" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Chapel before Restoration.<br /> -<em>Engraved by D. Havell after E. Mackenzie.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>Above the low stalls were paintings, and these -in 1560 the College barber was ordered to wash -out; his account for the work (6s. 8d.) is still -extant. The barber, however, merely covered up -the designs with white paint or whitewash, and -when the fine old stalls were removed the paintings -could be clearly seen upon the wall behind. In -1847, however, in order to produce a surface capable -of showing up the canopies of the new stalls then -in course of erection, the workmen proceeded -to scrape out all trace of the ancient designs, and -they had already finished this work of destruction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -at the top of the walls beneath the string-courses -when a Fellow of the College, chancing to stroll -in to inspect the work, saved the rest, some of -which still remains behind the modern panelling, -of which the Eton authorities have certainly very -little reason to be proud. After the discovery -there was for a time some idea of leaving the -paintings exposed to view, or at least contriving -an arrangement of sliding panels. Provost Hodgson, -however, objected to them as being “superstitious,” -and they were consequently permanently -covered by the present panelling. The designs, -which were fortunately sketched before being -covered up, have been described as the finest of -the kind ever discovered in England. They were -in all probability the work of some Florentine -artist of the fifteenth century. Each row of -paintings was divided longitudinally into seventeen -compartments, alternately wide and narrow. Concerning -these Sir Maxwell Lyte, in his excellent -history of the College, writes:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>The former contained historical compositions, the latter -single figures of Saints represented as standing in canopied -niches. Most of these Saints may be identified by their -emblems. Under each of the large compartments there was -a Latin inscription, explaining the subject of the picture, -and giving a reference to the book whence its story was -derived. The works most frequently quoted were the -<cite>Legenda Sanctorum</cite> and Vincent of Beauvais’ <cite>Speculum -Historiale</cite>, one of the earliest productions of the printing-press, -which had already gone through three editions before -1479. According to a practice which prevailed extensively -in the fifteenth century, successive incidents of a story were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -often represented as forming only one scene, the same figure -appearing two or three times in different combinations. The -whole series was intended to exemplify the gracious protection -afforded by the Blessed Virgin, the Patroness of the -College, to her votaries in all ages and countries. No less -than six of the compartments were occupied by scenes from -the life of a mythical Roman Empress.</p></blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">GROSS VANDALISM</div> - -<p>From first to last the so-called restoration cost -over £20,000, £5000 of which was contributed -by Mr. Wilder. In reality it was no restoration -at all—merely a terrible act of vandalism, -only exceeded in lack of taste by the alterations -carried out at the sister college of Winchester -some thirty years later, when all the priceless -woodwork was removed from the chapel. Within -recent years this was sold for an enormous sum, -and is now at Hursley Park, not many miles away -from the College which it once adorned.</p> - -<p>Besides the tearing down of the fine old panelling -and the partial destruction of ancient frescoes, -in all probability a quantity of other interesting -old work was destroyed at the orgy of iconoclasm -in 1847. The only object of those in power at -Eton at that time seems to have been to destroy -everything which recalled the past. They gloried -in the havoc they wrought within the Chapel, and -in their “restoring fervour” actually went so far as -to tear up the black and white marble pavement. -It is to be hoped that some day this may be -replaced. Would that some portion of the fine -old woodwork might be recovered and once again -find a place in the sacred edifice where for close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -upon a hundred and fifty years it met the eyes -of generations of Etonians!</p> - -<p>In place of the stately old noblemen’s seats put -up in 1700, Deeson designed seventy oak stalls with -carved canopies of modern Gothic design. Each -canopy seems to have cost £42, which, considering -that the artistic value of the stalls is exactly nil, is -a large sum. It would be interesting to know -what the value of the noblemen’s stalls which -Deeson tore down would be at the present time!</p> - -<p>Entering the Chapel through the screen, the first -of the canopied stalls on the right is that occupied -by the Provost, that on the left by the Vice-Provost. -The second stall on the right was given -by the Fellows of King’s College, the third by -Winchester College, and the fourth by the President -and Fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford, -like Eton connected with the memory of Waynflete. -The Headmaster’s stall is the seventeenth on the -right, distinguished by the words <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Magister Informator</i>. -Exactly opposite is the seat of the -Lower master (<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ostiarius</i>), who, however, usually -attends Lower Chapel. A number of the stalls -given by Etonians or Etonian families have tablets -with inscriptions. Next but two to the Lower -master, for instance, is a stall given by the Cust -family, of whom some eight generations have -been educated at Eton. Beneath the seat is to be -found the genealogy of all the Custs who have -been at the school. The twenty-sixth stall on -either side are those of the chaplains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> (<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Capellani -Conductitii</i>), known as “Conducts” at Eton. The -last stall but one on the left was given by James -Rattee, the contractor for the stalls, and the one -opposite by Deeson, the architect, who no doubt -thought that his imitation Gothic was vastly -superior to the stately work which he treated with -such contempt.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MACHINE-MADE GOTHIC</div> - -<p>Most of the alterations in the Eton Chapel were -lamentable in the extreme. Nevertheless they -excited great admiration amongst many who had -sat there in its unrestored days. Apparently they -were quite satisfied that the fine old panelling, in all -probability designed by Wren, should be removed. -One of these lovers of novelty wrote: “Those -who only know the Chapel in its present nobly -restored state could with difficulty go back to the -simply glazed windows, bare walls, and cold cheerless -aspect of the whole interior in former times.”<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -How such a “noble restoration” (consisting in the -destruction of every vestige of ancient woodwork -in order to substitute a quantity of machine-made-looking -Gothic stalls and some poor cusping to -the roof) can have moved any one to enthusiasm it -is almost impossible to understand. Nor can the -crudely coloured stained-glass windows be said to -be a great improvement upon the old plain glass, -which at least caused no pain to the eye.</p> - -<p>The true and artistic restoration would have -been to have retained the old stalls against the -western walls, while contriving a method by which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -portions of it could be temporarily removed in -order to afford a view of the frescoes. The high -box-like pews might have been modified, the old -woodwork being utilised to the utmost extent, or -at least preserved for use in other parts of the -College. If the position of the stately old organ-loft -opposite the second window of the west end -was found to be absolutely unsuited to modern -requirements, together with its wooden pilasters -of admirable design, it might have been re-erected -at the junction of the choir with the Ante-Chapel, -the stalls being continued farther back. As for -the magnificent organ-case, there would have been -no difficulty, as has been proved at Rugeley, -about furnishing it with a modern interior and -new pipes. The roof should have merely been -freed from paint, etc., and not been adorned with -the meaningless cusping, which, never contemplated -by its original designer, is so obviously out of place.</p> - -<p>The present organ-screen, erected in 1882 by -Mr. G. E. Street in memory of Etonians who -fell in the Zulu, Afghan, and Boer wars of 1879, -1880, and 1881, cannot be called a masterpiece of -architectural design, but in certain other respects -the interior of the Chapel has been somewhat -improved within recent years. An elaborately -designed floor of black and white marble has -been laid down at the east end. This, together -with a handsome if not altogether appropriate -altar, forms part of the memorial to the Etonians -who fell in the South African War (1899-1902).<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -As stated before, the names of those who died -for their country in this deplorable contest are -inscribed upon a roll of honour in Lupton Chapel.</p> - -<p>The fine tapestry behind the altar, executed by -the firm of William Morris from the designs of the -late Sir Edward Burne-Jones, was presented by an -art-loving Eton Master, Mr. H. E. Luxmoore, in -1895, whilst the picture of Sir Galahad, hanging -on the western wall, was presented by its painter, -Watts.</p> - -<p>The great stained-glass east window—a source -of grumbling and discontent to several generations -of Etonians, who were obliged to contribute what -was known as “window-money”—was executed by -Willement between 1844 and 1849, being set up in -bits as the contributions wrung from the boys increased. -Within recent years the crude and violent -tints of this costly example of the work of a bad -period have been softened. The irregular curve of -the external arch-mould over this window is said to -be due to the circumstance that when the College -Chapel was built the stones of the Parish Church -(which stood in the present graveyard and was -built in 1441) were used over again.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A TRANSPARENT FAILURE</div> - -<p>If the great east window is now somewhat less -of a “transparent failure” than of yore, the other -windows on the north and south sides of the Chapel -remain specimens of bad design and colour. Those -in the Ante-Chapel, however, are less glaring. The -two large windows by Hardman on the north and -south form the memorial to Etonians who fell in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -the Crimea; those at the west end are personal -memorials. Below these windows are a number of -tablets commemorating Etonians of note. On -the floor of the Ante-Chapel is a fine slab to the -memory of the late Bishop Abraham. There is -also a marble statue of the Founder, by Durham, -and another of Provost Goodall, who in all -probability would have been appalled by the -changes of 1847.</p> - -<p>The Rev. John Wilder, whose munificence -served to modernise the College Chapel he had -known all his life, is also here commemorated by -a tablet. Besides giving £5000 to the restoration -fund, he presented fourteen stained-glass windows -in the choir, and decorated the reredos and east -end as well as the new organ and case. Though -his benefactions were animated by a generous and -unselfish spirit, it is much to be regretted that -he did not devote his money to some better -purpose.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE LOST FONT</div> - -<p>In the Ante-Chapel, behind a railing, is a font, -placed there at the time of the renovations sixty -years ago. It was presented by some Collegers as -a memorial to C. J. Abraham. The last baptism -for which it was used took place two or three -years ago, when an Eton boy of fourteen or fifteen -was christened in the Chapel. About to be confirmed, -it was discovered that he had never been -baptized. In all probability he was a foreigner. -There stood previously at the same place an older -font, of which there is mention as early as 1479.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -Lipscomb describes the earlier one as “a beautiful -ancient font of white marble, of an octagon shape, -elegantly carved in relief and supported by a -pedestal on a square plinth.” It would be interesting -to know what has become of this font. If -not broken up, it has probably been sent away to -some village church.</p> - -<p>In the Ante-Chapel, before the Reformation, -there existed four altars, the chief of which, still -marked by a row of niches, was in the south-eastern -corner behind where now stands the statue -of Provost Goodall. This was called the Altar of -St. Catherine, or sometimes the Altar of Thomas -Jourdelay, after a certain inhabitant of Eton who -lies buried near it. Provost Bost (1477-1504) left -a sum of money for an extra chaplain who should -say Mass at this altar at least three times a week -for him and his relations. The altar in the north-eastern -corner of the Ante-Chapel was dedicated to -the Blessed Virgin. The remaining two were on -either side of the entrance to the choir and were -dedicated to St. Nicholas and St. Peter.</p> - -<p>One of the few relics which the spirit of change -has left intact in this old Chapel is the lectern, -which within recent years has once more been taken -into use. It dates from the fifteenth century, and -escaped destruction by the Puritans in 1651, when -the College paid sixpence for its removal. A -considerable number of Etonians are fittingly -commemorated in the Chapel, but the Marquis -Wellesley, in all probability the greatest lover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -of Eton who ever lived, has his memorial in the -North Porch, where may be seen the Latin elegiacs -which he wrote as his own epitaph. The tablet -on which they are inscribed was erected by his -brother, the great Duke. A good rendering in -English verse was made by Lord Derby:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Long tost on Fortune’s waves, I come to rest, -</div><div class="indentbase">Eton, once more on thy maternal breast. -</div><div class="indentbase">On loftiest deeds to fix the aspiring gaze, -</div><div class="indentbase">To seek the purer lights of ancient days, -</div><div class="indentbase">To love the simple paths of manly truth,— -</div><div class="indentbase">These were the lessons of my opening youth. -</div><div class="indentbase">If on my later life some glory shine, -</div><div class="indentbase">Some honours grace my name, the meed is thine. -</div><div class="indentbase">My boyhood’s nurse, my aged dust receive, -</div><div class="indentbase">And one last tear of kind remembrance give! -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>Lord Wellesley was deeply attached to his old -school, and some of the last productions of his -pen were dedicated to Eton. Consequently it -was only fitting that when he died, in testimony -of the strong affection which he entertained -towards the place where he received his first -impressions of literary taste, and in accordance -with his desire expressed before his death, his -body should be laid to rest beneath the College -Chapel of Eton—that spot of earth which, through -a long and arduous life in many lands, was ever -the nearest and dearest to his heart. The new -Lower Chapel, built 1889-1891, also contains a -memorial to Lord Wellesley in a stained-glass -window, the gift of the late Mr. A. Montgomery, -who was once his private secretary.</p> - -<p>Two Eton Headmasters are commemorated by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -monuments on the right towards the eastern end -of the Chapel. These are Dr. Balston and Dr. -Hawtrey, the last person to be buried within the -Chapel walls. On his breast is a badge with the -arms of Scotland and the motto <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nemo me impune -lacessit</i> just showing. This badge recalls an old -Eton usage<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> now extinct. The most modern -monument is a statue of Henry VI., put up over -the north door to the memory of the late Mr. -J. P. Carter, for many years one of the Assistant -Masters.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">PINNACLES—OLD AND NEW</div> - -<p>In 1876, owing to much of the Headington -stone used by Waynflete having become decayed, -the whole of the exterior of the Ante-Chapel was -entirely refaced.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> This, with other restorations, -of necessity impaired a good deal of its ancient -charm. On the whole the renovation was carried -out with care, but it is to be regretted that the -old pinnacles were then entirely removed and new -ones (designed in a highly ornate style of Gothic -for which there is no authority<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>) erected under -the direction of Mr. Woodyer. The old pinnacles -had last been repaired in 1698-1699. A curious -circumstance connected with them is that during -their removal fragments of the ancient reredos—destroyed -in 1546-1548—were discovered to have -been built into their fabric. Whatever may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -have been the demerits of the old pinnacles, one -or two of them which had suffered least from -the hands of time should have been allowed to -remain in place, so that future generations might -realise the original design which modern taste, or -lack of taste, has chosen to discard.</p> - -<p>One of the most interesting architectural -features of the College Chapel is the ancient holy -water stoup on the right-hand side of the door of -the south porch. As may be seen in old prints, -the service bell was formerly in a sort of dovecot -(irreverently called by some a larder) placed -on the roof of the porch. Here also hung the -knell bell, which, as long as the College Chapel -remained the Eton Parish Church, was tolled for -all funerals. The service bell still in use, hanging -in the turret at the south-western angle, bears the -inscription “Prayes Ye Lord, 1637.”</p> - -<p>In a niche on the west wall of the Ante-Chapel, -facing the street, a statue of William Waynflete -was placed in 1893. This was subscribed for by -some old Etonians connected with Sussex. The -task of designing it was entrusted to Sir Arthur -Blomfield, who produced one of the very few bits -of commendable modern work in Eton. Indeed, -this little statue, beneath an elaborate canopy, may -be called the only real artistic improvement carried -out within the last seventy years, during which -time so much labour and money have been devoted -to what in some cases amounts to mere wanton -destruction. Of the new quadrangle and Lower<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -Chapel, built by Sir Arthur Blomfield 1889-1891, -little need here be said. On the whole, the architect -has done his work well, and no doubt, under -the mellowing influence of time, the Queen’s schools -will assume something of that picturesque aspect -which in some slight degree already pertains to -the New Schools completed by Mr. Woodyer in -1863.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">LOWER CHAPEL</div> - -<p>A full account of the new Lower Chapel, its -memorials and stained-glass windows, is to be -found in the admirable <cite>Illustrated Guide to Eton -College</cite> written by Mr. R. A. Austen Leigh, -who in this and other works has done much -which should gain for him the thanks of all -Etonians. Since the construction of the New -Schools, Upper School, which tradition has connected -with the name of Wren, is only used as -a schoolroom for one division for the purposes -of examination. Speeches, I believe, are now -to take place in the new Memorial Hall, and the -busts of celebrated Etonians will no longer look -down upon the visitors who flock to Eton on -the 4th of June. The old staircase, from the -colonnade to Upper School, is one of the most -picturesque portions of the College. Here it was -that in old days boys promoted from Lower to -Upper School were subjected to the ordeal of -“booking,” being hit on the head with books as -they passed up the staircase.</p> - -<p>Within the last fifty years the town of Eton -has suffered severely from a picturesque point of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -view owing to the demolition and alteration of -many quaint old houses which formerly gave the -place a charming old-world appearance. The -“Old Sun,” which was pulled down not very long -ago, contained some fine arched oaken beams, and -the laths were perpendicular and fastened with -willow twigs. On the front wall used to be a Sun -Insurance plate of the eighteenth century, one of -the earliest issued by that Company.</p> - -<p>In that part of Eton given up to houses for -boys, alterations have of necessity been made -in order to afford accommodation for increased -numbers. Some of the older houses have had -extra stories added, whilst entirely new ones -have also been built. Of these latter somewhat -“barracky” erections it is perhaps best not to -speak.</p> - -<p>With regard to the Eton Memorial, however, -built for some unknown reason in the Renaissance -style, the writer can only say that in his opinion a -building less in keeping with the spirit of Eton it -would have been impossible to erect. Why the -authorities should have selected a design of this -sort is difficult to understand. Surely some -architect might have been found to produce a -building which would have harmonised with the fine -old brickwork which in the quadrangle and elsewhere -produces such a charming effect? To intrude -a purely personal opinion, those responsible -for the maintenance of Eton School have within -the last seventy years committed three great artistic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -mistakes—the first, the indiscriminating restoration -of the College Chapel, entailing the destruction -of much admirable woodwork; the second, the -renovation of the College Hall, in which it is -admitted a number of interesting features were -obliterated; the third, the erection of the huge -Memorial, the whole aspect and style of which -is utterly out of keeping with its surroundings.</p> - -<p>Closely associated with Eton is the adjoining -Royal Borough of Windsor, in which past generations -of Etonians played so many wild pranks. -The houses which formerly fringed the walls of -the Castle have long disappeared, and on the -other side of the road few ancient buildings remain. -The queer old theatre and gabled buildings near -“Damnation Corner” have been demolished within -comparatively recent years. “Damnation Corner,” -it is curious to recall, received its name from the -fact that in the old “shirking” days it was extremely -difficult for an Eton boy to avoid a master -coming quickly round the corner.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A MONSTROUS ROOF</div> - -<p>During the last fifty years the whole appearance -of Windsor Hill has been transformed, the -hand of the restorer having not even spared -the venerable curfew tower—now for some forty-eight -years disfigured by a roof so monstrous in -its ugliness that it stands forth as a surpassing and -convincing proof of our national lack of artistic -taste.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FUTILE PRATTLE</div> - -<p>The hideous top, totally inappropriate in style, -was put up by Salvin in 1863, when the ancient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -bell tower of picturesque and suitable appearance -was demolished. The operations carried -out at that date were, of course, dignified by -the name of “restoration”; as a matter of fact the -unwieldy addition to the tower had not a vestige -of archæological authority. It is much to be -hoped that some day the ancient appearance of the -tower will be restored, for the huge, ugly, and -inappropriate slated roof constitutes an eyesore -from almost every point of vantage from which -the Castle can be viewed. Within quite recent -years there could be seen, looming through an -embrasure, the muzzle of an old cannon, which, -according to a local legend, had been placed there -by Cromwell in order to guard against any hostile -move from the direction of Eton. During a -recent visit to Windsor the writer was quite -unable to locate either cannon or embrasure; presumably -both have gone. This old curfew tower—the -oldest part of the Castle, and said to have -been built in the days of the Conqueror himself—has -been peculiarly unfortunate. When Salvin -constructed his abominable top he had the decency -to leave the rest of the external structure alone, -and in the writer’s Eton days, thirty years ago, -almost all the old stonework and quaint little -windows, cunningly contrived for bowmen to shoot -through, remained as they had been built. Since -then there have been two or three reparations; no -doubt the decay of the stone made some renovations -necessary. In the last of these, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -during which the whole of the exterior was refaced -with an entirely different kind of stone, the original -design of the tower, which, like all the work of the -Normans, was very simple, has been tampered with, -the result being that its ancient charm has been -completely impaired. So is it that in this country, -in spite of much meaningless gush and prattle of -education and appreciation of art, almost every fine -monument is by degrees vulgarised and destroyed. -The curfew tower, it should be added, was one -of the few parts of the Castle left untouched by -George IV. in the very comprehensive remodelling -of the whole stately pile by Wyattville.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VII<br /> -COLLEGE</h2> - - -<p>Till the carrying out of the reforms initiated by -Provost Hodgson in 1844 the treatment of the -King’s scholars constituted little short of a public -scandal, rendered the more iniquitous because -College was the original Eton, and the lack of -consideration and comfort shown to boys on the -Foundation was directly contrary to the wishes of -the Founder. No wonder was it that the number -of those in College often fell far short of the -appointed seventy, sometimes sinking as low as -thirty-eight. In one year there were but six candidates -for forty vacancies. The prospective advantages -which a Colleger might reasonably expect at -King’s College, Cambridge, were not enough to -counterbalance the discomfort and degradation of -existence in the great dormitory known as “Long -Chamber,” besides which the expenses of a King’s -scholar were little less than those of the well-fed -and comfortably housed Oppidan, the cost of -education on the Eton Foundation often falling -not very far short of a hundred a year—a most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -extravagant outlay considering that a Colleger was -cared for no better than a charity boy.</p> - -<div id="Fig_196" class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;"> -<img src="images/i_p196.jpg" width="368" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">A Colleger, 1816.</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">“THESE POOR BOYS”</div> - -<p>Glancing over the records of the treatment -meted out to those whom Provost Hodgson rightly -termed “these poor boys,” one wonders that the -masters, who were perfectly acquainted with the state -of affairs in College, made practically no protest. -It must be remembered, however, that at that time -all of them without exception had been Collegers -themselves, and having come through the ordeal -with comparative immunity from harm, probably -had some sort of idea that the hardships and discomforts -of life in College produced hardy and -successful men. What these hardships and discomforts -were may be realised from the view taken -by an Insurance Company as to chances of life of -any one who had undergone them. In 1826 Dr. -Okes, when applying for an insurance policy, -in reply to one of the questions put to him -stated that “he had slept in Long Chamber for -eight years,” on hearing which the chairman of the -Board said, “We needn’t ask Mr. Okes any more -questions.” Existence in the ill-kept and insanitary -dormitory in question was calculated to promote -only the survival of the fittest, and those -who grew up to be healthy men might well be -accounted “good lives.”</p> - -<p>Whilst, as has been said, little protest was ever -raised at Eton itself against the deliberate misinterpretation -of the statutes with respect to the -scholars, public opinion gradually became aroused,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -and many old Etonians, notwithstanding the intense -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de corps</i> which has always been a characteristic -of the school, joined in the chorus of -unanimous reprobation which demanded reform. -About 1834 the Eton authorities were violating -not only the spirit but the letter of the ancient -statutes.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">BROKEN STATUTES</div> - -<p>The statutes required that the fines and land-tax -should be applied to the common use (“ad -communem utilitatem”), instead of which they -were appropriated by the Provost and Fellows to -their own use.</p> - -<p>The statutes entitled the Fellows to £10 a year -stipend, and 2s. a week, or £5, 4s. a year, for -commons, whereas they had increased their stipend -to £50 a year, and received in lieu of commons -on an average £550 a year each, or £10, 11s. 6d. -per week instead of 2s.</p> - -<p>The statutes entitled the Provost and seven -Fellows to allowances amounting in all to £200 -per annum, but in practice they received nearly -£7000.</p> - -<p>The statutes required that the scholars should -be supplied with dress and bedding; with all, in -fact, “quae ad vestitum et lectisternia eorundem -aliaque iis necessaria pertinent.” Nevertheless, -with the exception of a coarse gown, the scholars -received nothing appertaining to dress from the -funds of the College.</p> - -<p>The statutes provided ample allowances for -breakfast, dinner, and supper, with the use of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -certain fisheries. In practice breakfast was omitted -altogether, and for dinner the only kind of meat -provided for the scholars throughout the year was -mutton, which even if good in quality was not -sufficient in quantity.</p> - -<p>According to the statutes thirteen servitors were -to wait upon the Provost, Fellows, and scholars in -Hall, which arrangement had further developed into -the Lower boys waiting upon the Upper, who in -their turn performed the same menial offices for -the Provost and his company on the occasions of -their dining in the College Hall.</p> - -<p>The statutes required that each scholar should -be instructed free under the most strict oath to be -taken by the Head and Lower Masters. In direct -defiance of this each scholar was charged £6, 6s., -the amount having been gradually increased to -that sum.</p> - -<p>The statutes allowed each Fellow a separate -apartment, but such accommodation had long ceased -to be sufficient for them, and instead they resided -in spacious houses, free from taxes and the expense -of repair, with stables and coach-houses attached.</p> - -<p>The statutes enjoined that one room should be -provided for every three boys, free from any -expense. In 1834 upwards of forty boys slept in -Long Chamber, whilst those who were lodged in -the two adjoining rooms paid a sum of money -annually to the second master.</p> - -<p>The statute that any scholar during a short -illness should be maintained at the College expense<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -(if longer than a month, to receive a sum of money) -was entirely ignored.</p> - -<p>Finally, the statutes were required to be read -to the scholars assembled in a body three times a -year. This was never done; the scholars, moreover, -were not allowed access to them.</p> - -<p>It should also be added that the statute which -forbade Fellows of the College to hold benefices -had long been treated with utter contempt, they -holding them to any amount.</p> - -<p>If, however, the Eton authorities had contented -themselves with merely breaking the statutes in -the way of malversation of funds and the like, no -particular outcry would in all probability have -arisen. It was Long Chamber, and the state of -affairs within its walls, which excited such indignation -amongst those who, denouncing it as a sort of -Bastille, clamoured for reform. Originally all the -seventy scholars seem to have slept in the long -dormitory above Lower School, but after 1716 the -number became limited to about fifty-two. In -that year the Lower Master, Thomas Carter, having -given up his two rooms at the east end, eighteen -Collegers were located in the rooms in question, -being henceforth known as Carter’s Chamber and -Lower Chamber.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">LONG CHAMBER</div> - -<p>Long Chamber, about 172 feet long and 15 -feet high, was in winter warmed, or rather not -warmed, by two fire-places which were put in in -1784; before that there were no fires at all. Along -each wall was a range of old oaken bedsteads<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -which had been there for centuries, and between -every bedstead a high desk, with a cupboard -beneath, for each boy. The desk and cupboard, -painted lead colour, contained all their belongings. -There was no system of lighting except candles, -to hold which no provision was made. The leaf -of a book torn off, doubled, and a hole cut in the -centre, formed the only candlestick which the -Colleger had. If he wished to read in bed, the -candle was removed from the pasteboard candlestick -and stuck against the back of the old -bedstead. Even if sleep overcame a boy reading -in bed, and his candle burnt down to the wood, no -harm came of it, the bedstead being well striped -with charcoal, an evidence of the incombustible -nature of the old oak. [After Long Chamber had -been done away with, some little models of these -ancient bedsteads were made out of wood black -with age. The Rt. Hon. Lewis Harcourt’s Eton -collection contains one.] All that happened was that -it would not be long before he would be awakened -by the unpleasant smell of the wood, or by a good -tweak of the nose from his next-door neighbour, -who would be angry at the annoyance. In winter -the boys shivered with cold, most of the glass in the -windows being usually broken.</p> - -<p>There were but a very few chairs for the Sixth -Form, and the barrack or prison (boys were locked -into it at 6.30 in the evening), with the exception -of a table with a basin for the highest boys, was -totally devoid of washstands, Collegers having to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -perform such ablutions as they might deem -necessary at the old pump in the cloisters. The -walls and ceiling were full of the grime of ages, -whilst the whole place as a general rule was in a -state of intolerable filth. Once a year, however, -some attempt was made to give Long Chamber a -habitable appearance, and the time-honoured -processes to which it was then subjected were -generally sufficiently successful in making visitors -who saw it believe that all was well enough. For -a week before Election Saturday, which took place -at the end of July, “rug-riding” was in full force. -A number of Lower boys were tied up in big rugs -and dragged with a rope by other fags up and -down Long Chamber till the floor shone like a -mirror; the spaces between the beds were also -scrubbed to a corresponding glossiness. On the -Thursday, waggon-loads of beech boughs, cut in -the College woods at Hedgerley and Burnham, -were brought in and the whole of Long Chamber -decorated; the green rugs, edged with gold and -embroidered with the College arms, given by the -Duke of Cumberland in 1735, were then spread on -the beds. A huge flag was hung from the Captain’s -bed and the whole aspect of the room transformed. -Nevertheless the dirt remained beneath.</p> - -<p>Except at Election time Long Chamber was not -accessible to visitors, and the King of Prussia -himself was refused admission in 1842, on the plea -that that portion of the College was never -shown.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">CARTER’S CHAMBER</div> - -<p>Things in the two other rooms appropriated to -the use of the King’s scholars were not much better, -and an extraordinary state of affairs prevailed in -Carter’s Chamber. Whenever the chimney there -became at all foul, the boys used to set fire to it, -and, being very large, the roar it made when blazing -was tremendous, generally much to the annoyance -of the Provost, part of whose lodge was close by. -The fires in question were made with large beechen -logs, placed upon iron dogs, and the Collegers used -to roast potatoes among the ashes. One of these -logs every Lower boy was compelled to saw up -before he went to bed, with a saw that had no -edge. This was one of the most unpleasant -features of a Lower Colleger’s existence, for the -thinnest logs were always chosen by the biggest -boys, leaving the heaviest for poor little fellows -hardly strong enough to lift them. Not infrequently -would the latter dock themselves of -part of their rolls for breakfast in order to be able -to bribe another stronger boy to saw up their -portion for them.</p> - -<p>As regards food, the old-time Colleger was -disgracefully treated, no breakfast at all being -provided for him in College. Dinner in Hall -consisted entirely of mutton until about 1840, -when Provost Hodgson added roast and boiled -beef, each one day in the week. Though the -mutton is said to have been of excellent quality, -the manner in which it was served made it often -impossible for a young boy who had not a robust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -appetite to get any dinner at all that he could eat. -The joints were served in messes, a leg or a -shoulder serving for eight boys, a loin or neck -for six, the best joints going to the elder boys. -They were put upon the table, and the boys carved -for themselves. The captain of the joint cut his -own portion liberally from the best part, and passed -it on to the next in seniority, who slashed away at -it after his own taste. A junior fared badly if the -joint happened to be a loin or a shoulder and he -had not appetite enough for the fat and bones. -The knives and forks often ran short, and boys -were occasionally obliged to be content with the -reversion of such adjuncts. On Sundays plum-pudding -of a peculiar construction, by some -considered very palatable, made of unchopped -suet and unstoned raisins, made its appearance. -Indifferent beer was drunk by the Collegers out of -painted tin mugs. On Founder’s Day and Election -Saturday half a chicken and pressed greens was -served to every boy. Beyond this the fare provided, -as has been said, consisted entirely and -solely of mutton. In connection with this, however, -it is but fair to remember that not a few -boys objected to the beef which, at a yet earlier -period, figured on the College menu. One of these, -according to Sir Dudley Carleton, was the “dainty-mouthed” -young Phil Lytton, son of Sir Rowland -Lytton of Knebworth. Collegers whose purses -permitted were allowed to purchase more or less -savoury messes from the cook, one of whose most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -famed dishes was, for some unknown reason, -known as “blue-pill.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">COLLEGE SERVANTS</div> - -<p>Three of the Lower boys waited upon Sixth -Form in Hall, handing them their plates and -pouring out their beer, one being specially detailed -to hold back the long sleeves of the gown on the -Upper boy who carved the joint. This custom of -“servitors,” as they were called, perhaps of a too -menial kind, was not unwisely abolished some -thirty years ago, the staff of College servants -having been increased.</p> - -<p>Many of the old College servants were characters -like the original Webber, who seems to have inaugurated -the sock shop, which is now Rowland’s, -near Barnes Pool Bridge. Webber was College -cook in the early portion of the last century, in -addition to which he manufactured the birches -then in much request. Owing probably to this, he -incurred a sort of curious unpopularity, a legend -being started that he had run away from the battle -of Waterloo, therefore the usual taunt of the -Collegers, for whom he carved in the Hall, was, -“Pass up to old Webber that we want to see his -Waterloo medal.” The story appears to have been -purely mythical.</p> - -<div id="Fig_202" class="figcenter" style="width: 454px;"> -<img src="images/i_p202.jpg" width="454" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">James Culliford, the last Chief Butler of College to wear the livery of -Eton blue, standing by the College Pump.<br /> -<em>Reproduced by permission of the Earl of Rosebery, K.G.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>A great College functionary was the chief -butler. The last man to hold this office was Mr. -James Culliford, who died in 1901, aged eighty-nine. -The <a href="#Fig_202">illustration facing page 202</a> shows him in the -traditional uniform of Eton blue which is now no -longer worn, its use having been discontinued for no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -particular reason seemingly. The veteran in question -also appears in the <a href="#Fig_206">group of College servants</a>, -of whom the sole survivor is the little boy, Mr. -Culliford’s son, who for so many years has been -known to Etonians as the manager of the famous -Eton tailor, Tom Brown. In this group (reproduced -by the courtesy of Mr. Culliford from a -scarce old photograph in his possession) can also -be seen the last College constable, honest old Bott, -who was such a well-known figure in the days when, -with a colleague (one of the same group), he was -responsible for the due maintenance of law and -order. In his long coat of Eton blue, with the -College arms embroidered upon his sleeve, and -glazed top-hat, Bott was a sight which inspired -tramps and petty evil-doers of every sort with -genuine awe, and the vast majority of such folk -took care to give him a wide berth. Bott had done -good service as a soldier, having, it was said, -fought at Albuera and Waterloo, though according -to some his military service had been confined to -serving during the American War. In any case, -the fine old fellow was a typical Englishman of -a robust age.</p> - -<div id="Fig_206" class="figcenter" style="width: 556px;"> -<img src="images/i_p206.jpg" width="556" height="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<div style="font-size:90%"> -<div> -<p class="center inlinecolumna">Mr. J. Long<br />(College Porter)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumnb">C. Westbrook<br />(Cook)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumnb">J. Wagstaffe<br />(Scullion)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumnb">H. Atkin<br />(Brewer)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumnb">W. Runicles<br />(Photographer)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumna">Bott<br />(Policeman)</p> -</div><div> -<p class="center inlinecolumna">W. Perkins<br />(Policeman)</p> -<p class="center inlinecolumna">J. Culliford<br />(Butler)</p> -</div><div> -<p class="center inlinecolumna" style="margin-left:6em">G. Culliford<br />(Son)</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center">Old College Servants.<br /> -<em>Photo lent by G. Culliford, Esq.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<div class="sidenote">THREEPENNY DAY</div> - -<p>On certain days, owing to the observance of -ancient custom, the Colleger’s lot sustained some -amelioration. On February 27th, for instance, the -Provost or his Deputy presented every Colleger, -beginning with the lowest, with a threepenny piece. -The origin of this custom was that Provost Bost -(1477-1504) left a sum which gave each Colleger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -twopence, and Provost Lupton (1504-1535) left them -the extra penny. A doubtful tradition declared -that a Colleger was entitled to half a sheep, and -that the College was merely giving him what was -its equivalent in money during the Middle Ages. -An impudent young Colleger who had heard of -this tradition, being offered his threepence by the -Bursar, Mr. Bethell, a man of very uncertain -temper, once calmly said, “No, thank you, sir; I -want my half sheep.” Bethell flew into a passion, -and exclaimed, “I’ll mention this matter to Dr. -Hawtrey, and have you flogged,” and in due course -Branwell—so the “Tug” was named—expiated his -temerity at the block. Threepenny Day, I believe, -is one of the very few old Eton customs which is -still maintained.</p> - -<p>Occasionally protests would be made in order -to secure some slight improvement in the dinner. -The execrable quality of the beer in particular was -several times brought to the notice of the Fellows, -but beyond one of their number coming into Hall -and looking at the cans nothing was done.</p> - -<p>In comparatively remote times a discussion -took place amongst the authorities on the question -whether it was necessary for the Collegers to -have their potatoes peeled or sent up in their -skins. Two of the Fellows, as it happened, though -not related, bore the same name. One was an -advocate for the peeling system, declaring that the -boys had been treated “like hogs”; the other -opposed it as an unnecessary piece of refinement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -In consequence they were afterwards distinguished -by the Collegers as “Hog R——” and “Peeli-po -R——,” and the descendants of both families, -who were at Eton for many generations, always -bore the hereditary nicknames of “Hogs” and -“Peelipos.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“PUT INTO PLAY”</div> - -<p>Besides the squalor and discomfort amidst which -the Collegers lived there was much horse-play and -bullying, and for the most part small boys led a -wretched life. Besides having to undergo various -unpleasant initiatory ceremonies, one of which consisted -in swallowing an unsavoury mixture of salt -and water, their life was rendered wretched by -rough jokes. A bolster shaken down hard at one -end could do a lot of damage, knocking over -candles and ink-pots, or bringing the unsuspicious -to the ground with a well-directed blow on the -ankles from behind. A “Jew,” as a new boy was -called, was also apt to wake up in the night to find -a rope tied to his big toe, by which he was dragged -from his bed. The only chance to escape such -nocturnal visitations was to keep awake for some -time, and, if he heard whispering, to creep out of -bed and under that of a neighbour till he was safe -from danger. Sometimes he would be “put into -play” till he was sore all over. This most disagreeable -ordeal was as follows. Around one of the -large fire-places in Long Chamber two bedsteads -were placed close together on each side, and two at -the end, forming an enclosure. The boy “put into -play” was placed in one corner, next to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -captain, a certain number of the Upper boys being -seated on the bedsteads. At a given signal the -captain started him with a hearty kick, which generally -was sufficiently hard to propel him to the -opposite side; from thence he would be flung back -quite as expeditiously. Bandied about like a -human shuttlecock, bruises would soon begin to -make him sore all over, but only when it was -evident that he was in severe pain would the boy -be released and some shivering little spectator -seized and made to take his place.</p> - -<p>Another cruel and brutal College practice which -prevailed throughout the fortnight before Election -was tossing boys in a blanket. Sometimes an unpopular -boy would be put in the blanket with a -quantity of books, when he was certain to be most -severely bruised. The custom was, after forcing -the boy on to one of the small blankets, which was -held all round by the bigger boys, to repeat this -line:</p> - -<p class="center">Ibis ab excus<em>so</em> missus ad astra Sa-<em>go</em>.</p> - - -<p>At the end of the syllable <em>so</em> a little shake was -given, but at the last <em>go</em> he was sent quivering to -the ceiling. A boy named Rowland Williams was -severely injured in one of these tossings. Hurled -up to the ceiling, in his descent he fell sideways on -to a bedpost and was completely scalped. Only -by a most fortunate chance did he escape death, -sustaining concussion of the brain. His scalp, which -hung down his neck, was sewn on again, and by -great good fortune he completely recovered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - -<p>A less dangerous though highly unpleasant -ordeal to which new Collegers were subjected was -the ceremony known as “Pricking for Sheriff.” The -boy was laid across the lap of the chief executioner, -face downwards, and into a very tightened and thin -surface of small-clothes the assistant executioners -ran pins, warning the victim that if he screamed -louder than his predecessor he would be elected -Sheriff and fined a bag of walnuts.</p> - -<p>At this time the relations between Collegers and -Oppidans were not very cordial, the Lower boys -amongst the latter in particular often rendering -themselves peculiarly objectionable to the King’s -scholars, at whom they were wont to jeer. Sometimes -some especially aggressive little Oppidan -would be caught and taken into Long Chamber, -and either soundly thrashed or caned, or else subjected -to the blanket-tossing process which has -just been mentioned. When this was the case the -victim for some time after had good reason to -remember his half an hour passed amidst the -“Tugs”—which term in those days was far more -opprobrious than is at present the case.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE GOWN</div> - -<p>The exact origin of the word “Tug” has never -been cleared up. The most popular explanation has -always been that it is derived from the Latin word -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">toga</i>, a gown, and referred to the black gowns -they wore, and still wear, in school. It should -here be added that up to 1864 this indispensable -appurtenance of a King’s scholar was made of -cloth and very heavy. In that year, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -the light material at present in use was introduced, -while the length of the gown was somewhat -reduced. The old-fashioned gowns contained -pockets, which were often receptacles for viands -and dainties to be smuggled into Long Chamber. -A parody of Gray’s <cite>Ode on Eton College</cite>, written -by a King’s scholar in 1798, alludes to this:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">I know my gown when first it flowed -</div><div class="indentbase">An awkward majesty bestowed, -</div><div class="indentone">When waving fresh each woolly wing -</div><div class="indentbase">That worn-out elbows serve to hide, -</div><div class="indentbase">Or else to hold unknown, unspied, -</div><div class="indentone">A loaf or pudding in. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>As far as the writer has been able to ascertain, -the top-hat, or in earlier times its predecessor, the -cocked or three-cornered one, has always been the -head-dress worn by Collegers, though in an illustration<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> -representing the Iron Duke being cheered in -the quadrangle in the middle of the forties of the -last century, the King’s scholars are shown wearing -or waving mortar-boards. These, it would appear, -existed only in the imagination of the artist.</p> - -<p>The allusion to worn-out elbows in the ditty -given above is significant as to the poverty-stricken -appearance of the Collegers, most of whom were then -very sorrily dressed. Almost without exception -they were boys whose parents had but small means. -As a matter of fact College was never intended to be -an educational refuge for rich or high-born boys, -and, as a highly competent critic has remarked, “A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -young aristocrat in a serge gown is an anomaly not -contemplated by the statutes of the royal founder.”</p> - -<p>Before the reforms made in College in 1845 -most of the King’s scholars, it must be confessed, -were more of the class intended by Henry VI. -than has since been the case. In latter years -many Collegers have belonged to well-to-do or even -rich families, whereas the Foundation was specially -intended for poor boys. In the early part of the -nineteenth century a certain proportion of those in -College were the sons of Eton or Windsor doctors -or solicitors, royal servants, or successful tradesmen. -Besides these there were sons of Eton masters and -boys of impoverished country squires. The former -class of boys, however, were in some way made to -feel that they were not the equals of the sons of -gentlemen, and subjected to petty humiliations -which did their schoolfellows small honour.</p> - -<p>Besides being exposed to physical violence, -small boys, especially if they were clever, were -sometimes made to do work for stupid big ones. -A certain lazy lout, however, was once well served -out by his victim. In difficulties as to the composition -of a set of verses, the bully one day -got hold of a smaller schoolmate, and under the -threat of a severe licking got him to do the verses -for him. When, however, the bully came to -showing up the lines which he had not done, and -which he had not even troubled to read, they -were found to be so grossly indecent and outrageous -in tone that the master who looked at them at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -once declared the writer should be flogged. At -first the bully did not dare admit that they were -not of his own making, but eventually at the -block he admitted the fraud, with the result that -the boy who had played him the trick was also -punished. It is to be hoped, however, that the -bully received the more severe thrashing of the two.</p> - -<p>When the celebrated Porson was a Colleger, one -of his contemporaries was Charles Simeon, known -as “Snowball” Simeon, the ugliest boy in College, -who afterwards became an earnest Evangelical -preacher. In after life he looked back upon the -doings in Long Chamber and its lawless rowdyism -with horror, and once told a friend that he would -be tempted even to murder his own son sooner -than let him see in College the sights he had seen.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A RUNAWAY</div> - -<p>Under such circumstances it is not surprising -that small Collegers, if they were sensitive boys, -occasionally made determined attempts to run away. -One did so more than thirteen times, and became so -well known on the road that he was almost sure -to be stopped before he got far. Nevertheless he -once got up to town in a very curious manner. -He slunk early, before morning school, into the -yard of the Christopher; the London coach was -standing outside, and no one by, so he was able -unobserved to creep into the boot, trusting to luck, -which befriended him, for there chanced to be -that morning no passengers, and consequently no -luggage to be stowed away. The runaway was -therefore driven without disturbance in his uneasy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -berth, which he only vacated on the arrival of the -coach at the White Horse cellars in Piccadilly.</p> - -<p>The general tone in College was somewhat -rough and irreverent, as may be judged from the -following. Every Sunday morning at nine o’clock -the Collegers assembled in Lower School for -prayers, the headmaster sitting in the desk, and a -praepostor standing up repeating the Confession -and a prayer or two out of the Winchester Prayer-Book. -All joined in the 100th Psalm, which -sometimes, more especially towards the end of the -Half, was made the occasion of a not very seemly -demonstration. During the last Sunday the order -went round that every one was to sing his loudest, -and on one occasion the noise was so terrific that -it could almost be heard in the playing fields. -Keate, who was at that time in the desk, did not, -however, take any notice of this irreverent outburst. -He had been a youthful Colleger himself, -and probably considered that the whole thing was -merely a too enthusiastic performance of an old -Eton tradition, which in his eyes excused a good deal.</p> - -<p>In school work the Collegers then, as now, easily -maintained an almost unchallenged supremacy. -Almost without exception the sons of poor parents, -accurately grounded and imbued with the idea -that education was a real preparation for life, -they knew that they would have to make their -way in the world by their own exertions, for -which reason to be “a sap” in College was quite -an ordinary thing. Besides this, sixty or seventy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -years ago the very traditional customs which -excluded a King’s scholar from comparatively expensive -amusements, such as the boats, and made -him a member of a separate football and cricket -club, served to protect a boy from drifting into -various forms of fashionable idleness.</p> - -<p>At one time few boys went into College who -had not previously been Oppidans, and, till -Provost Hodgson’s reforms made it possible for -every boy to have a separate cubicle room, Collegers -used to have rooms down town or in their tutor’s -houses, where they could escape from fag masters -and the disorder of Long Chamber. In such -rooms they could work, wash, and eat in peace.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">TRONE’S</div> - -<p>Up to 1864 King’s scholars had to wear their -gowns out of school, though they abandoned them -before passing over Barnes Pool Bridge. A sock -shop in the High Street called Trone’s was almost -exclusively frequented by King’s scholars because -they were allowed to leave their gowns there when -going into Windsor. Oppidans never frequented -it, and, curiously enough, as showing the persistence -of traditional usage, years later, when the shop -had changed owners, though no one could give -any particular reason, it was supposed to be -“scuggish” to pass its doors.</p> - -<p>Whilst Long Chamber could never have been -called an abode of bliss, it had its pleasures, one of -the chief of which was the rat-hunting, in which -Porson is said to have taken so much delight. If -the Colleges lacked food they never lacked game<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -in the shape of rats, which fairly swarmed about -the ancient dormitory. Some of these animals -which defied capture became well known to the -boys, who in a sort of way felt a respect for one -veteran—an immense, perfectly gray old rat, which -was supposed to be the ghost of King Henry VI., -or at any rate to have been in being from the very -first foundation of the College.</p> - -<p>All sorts of food was constantly being smuggled -in. According to tradition, a sow was once -captured and stowed away on the leads till she -had farrowed and provided roast sucking-pig in -abundance. Hares and other game surreptitiously -caught in Windsor Park furnished many a hearty -feast. The Collegers were anything but particular, -and on one occasion, it is said, actually roasted and -ate an unfortunate swan which they had lured to -its doom.</p> - -<p>A great College institution was Fire-place—a -supper held before a roaring blaze, carefully set -going by Lower boys in one of the two huge -grates in Long Chamber, under the eyes of the -captain of the room, who enjoyed the privilege of -granting an extension of revelling time (known as -a half-holiday) beyond the hour of ten, when boys -were expected to be in bed. Five bedsteads were -run out in two parallel rows around the Upper -Fire-place, one facing the cheerful glow, and an -impromptu supper took place, the boys consuming -such provisions as they had been able to smuggle -in. A certain amount of these were obtained from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -the Christopher “on tick,” whilst a common dish -was a grill made of scrag ends of mutton and bones -purloined from Hall. Songs followed this supper, -the proceedings, which terminated at eleven, being -enlivened by College songs roared in chorus. These -were chiefly of a Bacchanalian or nautical order; -some also dealt with poaching. A favourite song -was “The fine old Eton Colleger—one of the -Olden Time.” The last verse of this ran:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Now times are changed, and we are changed, and Keate has passed away, -</div><div class="indentbase">Still College hearts and College hands maintain old Eton’s sway; -</div><div class="indentbase">And though our chamber is not filled as it was filled of yore, -</div><div class="indentbase">We still will beat the Oppidans at bat and foot and oar, -</div><div class="indenttwo">Like the fine old Eton Collegers, -</div><div class="indenttwo">Those of the olden time. -</div></div></div></div> - -<div class="sidenote">JOHNNY BEAR</div> - -<p>Not infrequently very palatable viands were obtained -by the Upper boys and real banquets held, the -pleasures of which were enhanced by the potations -which “Johnny Bear” brought from the Christopher -and pushed through the bars of Lower -Chamber, the usual receiving-room of all smuggled -goods, on the ground floor and adjoining the -school-yard. The Lower boy whose turn it was to -watch for Johnny’s arrival had pretty good cause -to remember such visits on cold nights.</p> - -<p>The Headmaster’s servant, it should be added, -was entrusted with the duty of seeing that no -Colleger got out at night. Strict fidelity to this -duty made him highly unpopular, for he would -never consent to be bribed. Principal and only -locker-up and gaoler to the boys, birch collector,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -and rod distributor, he was generally known by the -mythological appellation of Cerberus.</p> - -<p>Life in Long Chamber, like most unpleasant -ordeals, had its alleviations. Once a year, for -instance, there was an impromptu masquerade, -concluded by a march round, for which Jobey Joel, -an Eton character who survived till a few years ago, -supplied the music, and, extraordinary as it may -seem, theatricals flourished unchecked. Such performances -dated back to the early eighteenth -century, since which time they had been given with -the full knowledge of the authorities. In 1762, it -is true, Dr. Barnard, who was then Headmaster, -had tried to stop them, bursting in upon a representation -of <cite>Cato</cite>, and, much to his disgust, finding -that a long wig which he tore from one of the -actor’s heads belonged to the Vice-Provost; but no -drastic measures were taken, and theatricals continued -to take place as before. Out of Long -Chamber, however, the drama was tabooed. Both -Drs. Keate and Hawtrey connived at the performances -in Long Chamber, the latter especially -ignoring all theatrical preparations even when they -were right under his nose. Favourite pieces were -<cite>A Midsummer Night’s Dream</cite>, <cite>High Life below -Stairs</cite>, and <cite>Orlando Furioso</cite>. For the purposes of -this last play, Anson—a powerful Colleger—once -actually smuggled a donkey into College, where -it was stabled and fed till brought out to carry -Bombastes. The last play ever given in Long -Chamber was <cite>A Night in China</cite>, written by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -Colleger named King, and played in 1845. After -this, however, some Collegers, amongst whom -was Frank Tarver, afterwards well known to -several generations of Etonians as French Master, -indulged in theatricals at the back of Turnock’s -tailor’s shop in the town.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MR. BOURCHIER’S ETON DAYS</div> - -<p>Eton has furnished some capital recruits to -the London stage—Charles Kean, the brothers -Hawtrey, Mr. Willie Elliot, and others, including -that excellent actor, Mr. Arthur Bourchier, who -even as an Eton boy was celebrated for his dramatic -zeal. About 1882, with Bogle Smith, Collet, -Gilmor, and a few more, he organised the “Eton -Strollers,” the prologue for whose first play was -written by the Hon. Arthur Bligh, a boy of considerable -literary and poetic taste, who, in collaboration -with Bourchier, wrote a drama which was -sent to Irving for production. “Do these boys -play cricket?” inquired the great actor when -he received the manuscript; as a matter of fact -both were very fair cricketers, Bourchier being a -good wicket-keep.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bourchier’s first theatrical <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entrepreneur</i> was -Lord Kenyon, in whose room at Cameron’s he -made his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">début</i> in <cite>Uncle’s Will</cite>, in which he acted -with Johnson and Berkeley-Levett. When Mr. -Cameron, who was not sympathetic to theatricals, -left Eton, Bourchier went to the Rev. T. Dalton’s, -where his aspirations received far greater encouragement; -indeed his Housemaster became imbued -with such enthusiasm for theatricals that a colleague<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -once chaffingly inquired of him, “Is it true that -young Bourchier is going to bring you out on the -Music Hall stage?” Regular performances were -now given in Pupil Room, for which a small charge—generally -a penny a seat—was made, the proceeds -going to the Eton Mission, for the benefit of which -the whole company, including Mr. Dalton (who gave -a humorous recitation), gave an entertainment at -Hackney Wick.</p> - -<p>The exigences of the drama, however, occasionally -clashed with discipline. When, for instance, -in <cite>Still Waters Run Deep</cite>, after the lines, “Do -you smoke?” “Yes, I’ll have a cigar,” two of the -actors lit up, Mr. Dalton from his place amongst -the audience shouted out, “No, you don’t,” and -was only appeased by an examination of the cigars, -which proved to be dummies. On another occasion -when a careless or mischievous Lower boy had -manufactured snow for the duel scene in the -<cite>Corsican Brothers</cite> by tearing up a pile of “extra-works” -which had been lying on Mr. Dalton’s desk -for correction, the latter became so scandalised at -seeing the duellists enveloped in a “cloud of -equations” that, after ejaculating, “One minute! -This performance now ceases,” he set actors and -audience to the uncongenial task of putting the -pieces together. The most ambitious effort of the -company was an elaborate performance of <cite>The -Merchant of Venice</cite>, in which Reggie Lucas (<a href="#Page_286">see -Chapter X</a>.) took part.</p> - -<p>Bourchier was celebrated for his imitations of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -Masters, about the most amusing of which was an -impersonation of a certain squeaky-voiced tutor -after he had been cut over by an imaginary cricket -ball. As luck would have it, the latter, whilst -playing in an eleven of Masters against boys, one -of whom was Bourchier, did happen to sustain -a painful injury, with the result that he proceeded -to give an almost exact reproduction of himself -as portrayed by his imitator, who could not help -being convulsed with laughter as he led the sufferer -off the ground. Later on, the victim, who, of -course, had no idea of the real cause of this merriment, -said to a colleague, “What hurt me more than -the pain was the brutality of the boy Bourchier.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“UNDER THE CLOCK”</div> - -<p>In course of time Bourchier formed his imitations -into a sketch, entitled <cite>Under the Clock</cite>, which -depicted a number of Eton Masters at Lord’s, and -before he left the late Mr. R. A. H. Mitchell -arranged that this should be heard by the individuals -concerned, whom he posted behind trees in Poet’s -Walk whilst the author gave his performance close -by. They were all very much amused, and when -it was over came forward to congratulate the -youthful aspirant to dramatic fame, whom they -shook warmly by the hand and wished him all -success in his future career.</p> - -<p>To return to the story of College—the pleasures -as well as the trials of Long Chamber came to -an end in 1845, for in September of that year -the new buildings were opened and the old -days of College became mere memories of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -obsolete age. The discomforts and hardships of -Long Chamber were then forgotten by most of the -boys who had slept there. In spite of the far -better conditions they chafed at the lack of freedom -and the end of “Fire-place” with its suppers and -choruses. The Chamber itself, though not pulled -down, was entirely remodelled, cubicles for a -limited number of boys being constructed and the -whole place made habitable and clean.</p> - -<p>Election Saturday, the glories of which have -now departed for ever, was a great day not only for -those in College, whom it more immediately concerned, -but for the whole school. At two o’clock -the Provost of King’s College, Cambridge, attended -by two examiners called “Posers,” drove into -Weston’s Yard. The arrival of his yellow coach, -drawn by four smoking horses, always produced -great excitement. Meeting the Provost of Eton, -a kiss of peace was exchanged (abandoned in Dr. -Hawtrey’s days for a handshake). A speech was -then made in Latin by the captain of the school -under the archway of Lupton’s Tower, its main -purport being the offering of congratulations to the -Provost on his arrival at the College. The rest of -the programme was much the same as that still -gone through on the 4th of June—speeches in the -Upper School at eleven, banquet of dons in the -College Hall at two, processions of the boats in the -evening to Surly Hall, with fireworks off the Eyot -on the return, and finally, sock suppers in all the -houses. The fun on Election Saturday, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -was always more fast and furious than on the -4th of June, because the school was to break up -on the following Monday, and the boys who were -going to leave looked upon themselves as already -emancipated. For this reason turbulent spirits did -not scruple to commit all sorts of extravagances, -being pretty sure that just preceding the holidays -they would escape unpunished.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE POSERS</div> - -<p>On the Tuesday and Wednesday following, -candidates for College were examined, as well as -scholars seeking election to King’s. The “Posers,” -or examining chaplains, were terrific gentlemen in -the eyes of the boys; whilst examination took -place, Election-chamber was to most an awful room, -then rendered somewhat weird and uncanny by the -light filtering through an immense red curtain, let -down at the large oriel window, which imparted a -sort of devilish appearance to the “Posers.”</p> - -<p>A very quaint old usage existed in connection -with these “Posers,” each of them being attended -by a Colleger, who waited upon him in Hall and -elsewhere if required, for which the boy—quaintly -called the “Poser’s child”—received a fee of a -guinea, selection for the office by the Headmaster -being regarded as being a sort of minor honour. The -existence of this curious custom, which of course -died a natural death with the “Posers” themselves, -has generally, I think, escaped mention in books -dealing with Eton. It was brought to my notice -by my old tutor, Mr. H. W. Mozley (Newcastle -Scholar, 1860), who in this and other ways has given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -me valuable information which I here acknowledge; -he himself had been “Poser’s child” in 1859.</p> - -<p>The days following Election Saturday were -always particularly depressing and gloomy, and the -poor King’s scholars had a melancholy time. The -gentlemen, as the tradespeople had the impertinence -to call the Oppidans, went home on the -Monday, whilst Collegers had to wait until the -Thursday. All the shops were shut up, and -scarcely any one about.</p> - -<p>Collegers, like Oppidans, then remained at -Eton longer than at present—as late as 1874 -there was a King’s Scholar, Tuck by name, -who was said to have been nine years at the -school. In the days when such a close connection -existed between Eton and King’s, a Colleger -leaving to go to Cambridge used to go through -the old form known as “Ripping.” This was -performed at the Provost’s Lodge. The two -folds of the Colleger’s serge gown were sewn -together in front, and the Provost “ripped” them -asunder, pronouncing some Latin formula, after -which he congratulated the embryo scholar of -King’s, and gave him good advice as to his future -career. The gown, it must be remembered, was -then an essential part of the Colleger’s equipment -out of as well as in school. Although the rule was -not strictly adhered to, they were even supposed -to wear their gowns whilst playing games.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ETON’S DIVORCE FROM KINGS</div> - -<p>All the picturesque features of Election disappeared -in the sixties, when new statutes were substituted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -for those of the Founder, and the relations -between King’s College, Cambridge, and Eton -entirely changed. In 1861 William Austen -Leigh and Felix Cobbold were elected to King’s. -With them ended the ancient succession of Eton -scholars after it had continued, with few if any -interruptions, under the statutes of Henry VI., for -the period of four hundred and nineteen years, -William Hatecliffe (1443), afterwards Secretary -to King Edward IV., and Felix Thornley Cobbold -(1862) being the first and last scholars. -The right of the latter to a scholarship at King’s -was, it should be added, disputed, as was that of -William Austen Leigh, the Provost and Fellows -of the Cambridge College urging that the new -statutes were already in operation. This question, -which never ought to have been raised, inasmuch -as the names of these boys were on the indenture -before the existence of the new statutes, was submitted -to legal opinion and then to the “Visitor.” -It was eventually justly decided that the two Eton -scholars were entitled to scholarships at King’s -College, with all their rights, emoluments, and consequences, -and with this terminated the ancient and -sisterly connection between the two Foundations.</p> - -<p>The new statutes provided that four scholarships -at King’s should be annually offered for competition -to the scholars of Eton, tenable for six years, value -£80 per annum, with tuition, rooms, and commons -free. The injury done to the interests of Eton by -the new arrangements was very great, for four<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -scholarships per annum did not amount to the -average of the old succession, which ranged from -four and a half to five, while the difference between -a scholarship of six years’ tenure and one which -led to a Fellowship that might be held for life -was so great as to be difficult to calculate. The -remarkable features in these iniquitous changes -were the earnestness with which they were pressed -by King’s, which seemingly was anxious to rid -itself of its connection with Eton—that is, as far -as it could—and the weakness of Eton and its -dereliction of duty to itself and its scholars in -acquiescing in them without any attempt to -obtain any mitigation or revision which might -certainly have been effected. Henry Norris -Churton, the first Colleger to be affected by -the new state of affairs, declined to accept the -scholarship at King’s to which he was elected in -July, but Richard Durnford, elected in the same -month, did accept, and thus became the first Eton -scholar who went to King’s under the new statutes.</p> - -<p>A few years later—in 1871—the repeal of the -entire code of statutes which had regulated Eton -since the 21st December, 1443, did a good deal -more towards nullifying the wishes of Henry VI. -The old statutes laid down that there should be -seventy <em>poor</em> scholars—an important clause which -the new ones abolished. At present, directly contrary -to the Founder’s intention, there is nothing -to prevent the son of a multi-millionaire from competing -for an Eton scholarship.</p> - -<div id="Fig_226" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p226.jpg" width="600" height="456" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Sixth-Form Bench.<br /> -<em>Lithograph lent by the Earl of Rosebery, K.G.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VIII<br /> -SCHOOL WORK</h2> - - -<p>Whilst Eton has occasionally produced some very -fine scholars—the Marquis Wellesley was a case in -point—it cannot be said that the traditions of the -school are very favourable to learning, which to a -large proportion of Etonians has seemed of less -importance than the acquisition of worldly wisdom. -More than a hundred years ago De Quincey noted -the peculiar tone which prevailed amongst Eton -boys, who showed a premature knowledge of the -world far exceeding that possessed by the scholars -at any other school. The graceful self-possession -of the boys attracted his attention, but he thought -them lacking in self-restraint. Such an accusation, -however, could not justly be made in more modern -days, when a sort of genial unconcern has come to -be regarded as one of the principal characteristics -of the typical Etonian, who, preferring anecdote to -argument, is profoundly convinced that amongst -human institutions his school stands easily first.</p> - -<p>With respect to most modern criticisms which -have been levelled against the system of education, -it must be remembered that in their efforts to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -teach, the masters are handicapped by one or two -fundamental difficulties not easy to surmount.</p> - -<p>Eton, in a much larger proportion than any -other school, has contained, and does contain, the -children of rich parents, boys of good birth and -large expectations, most of whom realise very early -in life that there is no absolute necessity for them -to work; consequently something like a leaven of -indolence permeates the school, the tone of which -it is, perhaps unjustly, said has of late years -been impaired by an increasing number of sons of -millionaire parvenus, who are allowed extravagant -sums by parents anxious to forward the social -success of their offspring by any kind of means. -Such parents for the most part have no real wish -that their boys should be educated at all, and send -them to Eton simply to form friendships and to be -turned into gentlemen; or perhaps merely because -Eton enjoys the reputation of being a fashionable -school. Be this as it may, the number of rich boys -sprung from the commercial, or rather financial, -classes has undoubtedly increased, whilst foreigners -now flock to Eton in ever-swelling numbers. As -a result tales, probably untrue, have been circulated -of wealthy boys achieving a spurious popularity -owing to their pockets being constantly replenished -from home, whilst, according to one incredible -rumour, the sons of certain rich speculators, imbued -with an hereditary faculty for money-making, have, -on occasions, not hesitated to loan portions of their -abundant funds at an extravagant rate of interest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -The writer, be it understood, does not for a moment -say that such a state of affairs really exists, but the -fact remains that such things have been whispered, -of course with no increase to the prestige of the -school. It is not healthy for boys to be allowed -unlimited pocket-money, and men of moderate -means—belonging to what may be called “old -Eton families”—do not care to expose their sons -to the contamination of mingling with schoolmates -of alien blood whose sole claim to consideration -lies in their parent’s enormous wealth. In addition -to this, quite a number of foreign boys are sent -to be educated at Eton, which has occasionally -not proved altogether advantageous to the best -interests of the school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MODERN ETON</div> - -<p>Modern Eton as it is to-day may be said to have -originated from the recommendations of the Public -School Commission, which began its work in 1861, -at which time a wind of change was blowing about -old places in England, with the result that many -a weather-worn relic went down before it. As -a result of the labours of this body, the charm -of the school’s celestial quiet was broken, some of -the evidence taken having revealed an unsatisfactory -state of affairs which seemed to call for drastic -change. It was, for instance, conclusively shown -that the masters had more on their hands than they -could do, and some did not make any scruple about -complaining. “We are enormously overworked,” -said one. “There is no time,” said another, “for -society, for meeting each other, for relaxation, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -no time, I may say, for private reading, and I -consider that prejudicial to the school.” In fact, -as Mr. Commissioner Vaughan put it, it seemed a -characteristic of the Eton system that “the masters -did too much for the boys, and the boys did too -little for themselves.” The real state of affairs at -Eton at that time was that an immense deal of -work was got out of the masters, and little out -of the boys. Since those days the number of -masters has swelled to the very adequate number -of sixty-five or more, exclusive of the Head and -Lower Master, but the tutorial system, which has -at various times aroused a good deal of adverse -criticism, remains unchanged, and in all probability -will continue to flourish as long as Eton lasts.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DEAD AND LIVING TONGUES</div> - -<p>Half a century ago it was urged that the main -mistake in the Eton system lay in the retention of the -dead languages as the staple of school work, whilst -the panacea put forward for the admitted ignorance -of Young England was the adoption by the -majority of boys of what is known as a “special -education.” With some justice it was urged that -as a boy when he goes out into the great world is -unlikely to read much Greek, and even less likely -to write much Latin verse, his school days had -much better be occupied in learning something -which is practical and useful. Whilst the classics -are still the main feature of the school curriculum, -a boy may now, on having reached a certain -standard (usually attained about the age of <span class="nowrap">16 <span class="fnum">1</span>/<span class="fden">2</span></span>), -learn modern languages, science, history, mathematics,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -or continue to study Greek and Latin, -according as he, or rather his parents, may decide. -In addition to this, the Army class provides an -alternative course of study for those about to -enter upon a military career.</p> - -<p>An entirely new feature is that a number of -boys going to Eton now enter for the foundation -examination, though without any idea of becoming -King’s scholars should they pass. In July 1910 -three of the nineteen scholars who passed into -Eton entered as “Oppidan scholars.”</p> - -<p>With regard to the modern languages mentioned -above, it is to be hoped that the old Eton method -of teaching has been discarded. In the past the -time set apart for French was too often merely -a farcical interlude, during which boys devoted all -their energies to teasing the master! The old -classical system would be preferable if anything of -the sort survives, for, after all, even a slight knowledge -of the classics is better than an imperfectly -assimilated smattering of a modern tongue. In -old days very thorough methods were adopted -in connection with Latin and Greek. One luckless -lad in Keate’s division construed <cite>Exegi</cite>, -I have eaten; <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">monumentum</i>, a monument; <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">perennius</i>, -harder; <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">aere</i>, than brass. “Oh, you have, -have you?” said the Doctor; “then you’ll stay -afterwards, and I’ll give you something to help -digest it,” and he did. On the whole, educational -authorities are still loth to exclude Latin and -Greek. The Commission of fifty years ago, after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -hearing much evidence, were of this opinion. The -Commissioners reported:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>We believe that for the instruction of boys, especially -when collected in a large school, it is material that there -should be some one principal branch of study, invested with -a recognised and, if possible, a traditional importance, to -which the principal weight should be assigned and the -largest share of time and attention given. We believe that -this is necessary in order to concentrate attention, to stimulate -industry, to supply to the whole school a common -ground of literary interest, and a common path of promotion.... -We are of opinion that the classical languages and -literature should continue to hold, as they do now, the -principal place in public school education.</p></blockquote> - -<p>There is certainly much to be said for Latin -as an aid to the acquirement of “exact expression,” -but Greek is another matter altogether. -According to the writer’s own experience, the -majority of boys never obtained any real grip -upon that defunct tongue, besides which, for all -but an infinitesimal number, in after life Greek, -as Mr. Andrew Carnegie has somewhat bluntly -put it, “is of no more use than Choctaw.”</p> - -<p>The old Eton system was largely composed of -paradoxical omissions, and by an extraordinary -fiction boys were supposed to be thoroughly -acquainted with subjects such as modern geography -and arithmetic, of which, in reality, they knew -nothing at all.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">MATHEMATICS</div> - -<p>Within comparatively recent years mathematics -had no regular place in the curriculum of the -school. It is true that there was an “extra”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -master or two who was allowed to take those who -liked to be taught and charged, but he had no -means of enforcing discipline, and, however irritated -he might be, had no right to complain to the Headmaster. -In Mr. Gladstone’s Eton days Major -Hexter, who kept a boarding-house, and was -styled the writing-master, taught mathematics. -Only the Lower boys, however, went to him, and -when they were certified as proficient in long -division the Major troubled them no more. When -in 1836 the Rev. Stephen Hawtrey came to the -school as mathematical master he was only allowed -to give his lessons as “extras,” and to the first -thirty boys in the school, because Major Hexter -was supposed to have a vested interest in the -ignorance of the remainder. The whole thing -ended in Mr. Hawtrey paying the Major a pension -of £200 a year, so that the latter’s opposition to the -teaching of Euclid and algebra might be withdrawn.</p> - -<p>Even after he had obtained a more or less -regular position, Mr. Stephen Hawtrey’s lot was -none too happy, and this most kindly man passed -many irritating half-hours in the round theatrical-looking -building which some called the “Station -House.” Those boys whose parents desired it -were entered on the books of this establishment, -but the time spent there was one rather of recreation -than of study. Mischievous boys were constantly -turning off the gas or letting off squibs -and crackers, especially in November, which was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -a particularly merry season. Besides this, the -unfortunate master did not receive much sympathy -or commiseration from his classical superiors, being -in a measure regarded as an interloper and an -enemy to versification.</p> - -<p>The last writing-master as provided for by the -ancient statutes was a Mr. Harris, who always -resented not being allowed to wear a cap and -gown like the other masters. Highly tenacious of -such privileges as he could contrive to obtain, he -was always well pleased when small boys touched -their hats to him in the street, punctiliously -returning such salutations with a grand sweep of -the arm. A hater of steel pens, one of his -principal occupations was mending quills and -trying their nibs on his thumb-nail. He had -always a quill behind one of his ears, occasionally -behind both; and, being a little absent-minded, -would sometimes, to the general delight, sally forth -from school with his hat on and a pair of fresh-mended -quills sticking out underneath. Mr. -Harris taught only Lower boys, but big ones, -whose bad hand-writing had attracted attention, -were sometimes sent to him to learn how to write -properly; this, needless to say, was looked upon as -a great humiliation.</p> - -<p>The old Eton system could not, of course, fit -a boy for a commercial or business career—as a -matter of fact it was never intended to do so. The -modern system, on the other hand, makes something -more than a pretence of equipping Etonians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -for any profession they may select, though, considering -the traditions of the school, this is no -easy task. The old idea was that, exclusive of the -Collegers, a number of whom were always fine -scholars, it did not much matter if the boys were -taught Sanscrit or Chinese, the main purpose of an -Eton education being not so much to inculcate -what was vulgarly called “book-learning,” as to -fit Etonians to take their place in the great world -outside.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“TARDY-BOOK”</div> - -<p>Of late years, however, the authorities have -made real progress in their efforts to convert -“an Eton education” into more of a reality. -The facilities for study at Eton have always been -good, and within recent years much has been done -to improve them, with, it would seem, satisfactory -results. White tickets have been invented as a -final supreme punishment when yellow tickets have -failed to make a culprit realise his own shortcomings, -whilst the quaintly named “Tardy-book,” -an institution of entirely modern origin, has been -devised to strike terror into those who make a -practice of being late for school.</p> - -<p>The old haphazard methods which formerly -prevailed have been discarded in favour of more -business-like ways, the school office, which undertakes -the distribution of much connected with the -work of the school, being a thoroughly workmanlike -and efficient institution. In its early days, however, -a few things somehow got mislaid, which, of course, -furnished unscrupulous boys who had failed to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -any punishment with the plausible excuse that -their lines had got lost there.</p> - -<p>Much less idleness seems now to prevail, the -boys being certainly forced to work more than -was the case in the writer’s day, when so many of -them, it must be admitted, learnt very little indeed, -contriving to go through the school with a really -surprising lack of mental effort. To such as these -the only real time of danger was Trials, when they -were absolutely obliged to make some attempt at -working. Most idlers, however, took such an ordeal -very lightly, occasionally supplementing their defective -memories by various ingenious contrivances. -An expert once, it is said, equipped himself as -follows: Right waistcoat pocket, Greek verbs; left -waistcoat pocket, Latin verbs; breast pocket, crib -to Horace; right tail pocket, crib to Virgil; left -tail pocket, crib to Homer; finger-nails, important -dates. His ingenuity, however, was all wasted, for -he was plucked. The amount of application and -intelligence needful to take a good place in such -examinations was formerly quite moderate.</p> - -<p>Cunning boys had all sorts of ways of avoiding -work. Some could calculate to a nicety when they -were likely to be put on to construe, and learnt -only a particular bit. One master for a long time -made it a practice to call upon each boy in turn -right through his division, with the result that they -confined themselves to learning only about a dozen -lines or so apiece. At last, however, the trick was discovered, -and one fatal morning the master caused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -consternation by putting on the first boy at the -end instead of the beginning. A general collapse -ensued, boy after boy standing dumbfoundered -and speechless, instead of rattling off his portion -with glib proficiency.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SUNDAY QUESTIONS</div> - -<p>Thirty or forty years ago, it may safely be -affirmed, any boy of ordinary intelligence who had -received a good grounding at a private school could -manage to make his way up to the higher forms -without once “muffing Trials,” and yet not increase -his stock of learning in the very slightest degree. -He lived, as it were, upon a capital of knowledge -imbibed in the very different atmosphere of some -hard-working preparatory school. The enthusiasm -for learning which inspired many a boy fresh from -such modest seminaries was too often quickly -cooled by the banks of the Thames. It was, indeed, -admitted by not a few that the longer a boy -remained at Eton the more lazy he became. One -cheeky lad, indeed, being lectured for idleness by -his tutor, who at the same time eulogised the -industry of a comparatively new comer, was met -by the answer, “Well, sir, I have been here three -years and he only one.” The tone, at least amongst -the majority of the Oppidans, was not encouraging -to enthusiasm of any kind, besides which the frank -absurdity of certain portions of the Eton curriculum -was calculated merely to depress a boy gifted -with even average intelligence. Sunday questions, -for instance, instituted by Dr. Goodford about 1854, -usually resembled nothing so much as a page of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -acrostics, the correct solution of which, whilst -involving a vast amount of trouble, conduced to -anything but a love of the Bible. As an aid to -holy living, for which purpose, I believe, they were -supposed to be devised, no more pitiful failure ever -existed, the sole effects produced being unmitigated -boredom and much bad language. In modern days -they may have been improved, but in their original -form these questions, a number of which dealt with -the genealogies of Hebrew kings, were a most -unstimulating exercise for the youthful brain.</p> - -<p>In many other respects the school-work was -idiotically useless and bad, a great part of it having -seemingly been devised to entail a maximum of -drudgery with a minimum of useful information. -Above all, it lacked elasticity, little or no effort -being made to encourage a boy in any particular -subject for which he exhibited aptitude.</p> - -<p>Some features of the curriculum might have -been modelled upon the ancient Chinese system. -What could have been more ridiculous than to -make boys who could scarcely construe a simple -sentence attempt to turn out Latin verse? It -would have been far better to teach greater Eton—that -is, the mass of more or less ignorant -dunces—how to write a good letter in their own -language, or driven into their brains some knowledge -of modern geography, yet nothing of the -sort was ever attempted.</p> - -<p>The writing of Latin verse was one of the most -time-honoured Eton traditions which had to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -undertaken by every boy who emerged from the -Lower Forms of the school, and every week a copy -of verses was set by the masters who took the -divisions of the Fifth Form. These verses had to -be done by the boys as best they could, being submitted -for correction to the tutors, who got the -verses into shape, eliminating “false quantities” -and all other mistakes, in the course of which -operation they themselves often composed a good -deal of Latin poetry. The revised copy was then -returned to the boy, who wrote a “fair copy” out -of school, and afterwards showed up both copies to -the Division Master. The strain on the tutors was -at times great, and unscrupulous boys, with the -additional help of a clever friend, would sometimes -go through the whole of their Eton career without -in the least understanding anything at all about -verse-writing.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“TUGS” AND “SAPS”</div> - -<p>Such a state of affairs exerted a demoralising effect -upon the minds of earnest, well-meaning boys, who -gradually came to see that certain features of their -education were entirely futile. Besides this, owing -to the general tone of the school, a large part of -which regarded school-work as being merely a sort -of useless way of wasting time, their estimation of -the value of effort of all kind lessened, whilst the -conviction was forced upon them that no particular -<em>kudos</em> was to be gained by conscientious study, -which they came to look upon as the peculiar -appanage of “Tugs” and “Saps.”</p> - -<p>No feat of learning on the part of a King’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -scholar ever aroused the slightest surprise, it being -generally assumed that “Tugs,” unlike the rest of -the school, having been born “Saps,” or always -made to work, could master every kind of learning -with the greatest ease. The Newcastle Scholar, -always a boy of high intellectual attainments, -excited no interest amongst the mass of the school—the -majority indeed scarcely knew who had won -it, and, if asked, would generally reply, “Oh, some -Colleger or other.” No aspirations to gain Balliol -scholarships or places in the class-lists disturbed -the serenity of the Oppidan’s mind. Such petty -ambitions might excite the miserable rivalry of -boys at other schools, vain mortals toiling in the -lower world of scholarship, “vying with and outrunning -and outwitting one another.” In such -contests Eton could afford to look calmly on, -secure in that “repose of character” which has -for so many generations marked her students. -There existed, indeed, a sort of tacit understanding -that it was the business of the Collegers to do -the intellectual work and to win the school and -University honours, whilst the Oppidans were to -prove victorious at Henley and, if possible, beat -Harrow and Winchester at cricket. A great -portion of the school, assuming a natural licence -to be idle, had a deeply implanted conviction -that reading was not in their line, and at heart -believed it was rather a slow thing to do.</p> - -<p>The general result of this unsatisfactory standard -of course yielded bad results. Calmly secure in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -the conviction that to be in the eight or eleven -was to have reached the highest pinnacle of boyish -ambition, those who excelled in athletics became -naturally prone to undervalue intellectual effort -and attainments.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">GAMES, NOT WORK</div> - -<p>To excel at games, not at work, was the ideal -set before their youthful eyes; no wonder that for -one who persevered in conscientious preparation of -his school-work ten succumbed and became content -to sink lower and lower in Trials, till at last -they just scraped through a few places from the -bottom. Admiration for athletics indeed was -carried to an almost absurd extreme. Whilst there -can be no doubt that exercise and an indulgence in -manly games and healthful forms of relaxation are -excellent for schoolboys, they should be regarded -from a sane and proper point of view, and not held -up as the sole end and aim of human existence. -Curiously enough, scarcely any great men have been -keen athletes during their youthful days, whilst a -large proportion of those who have excelled in the -cricket field or on the river have been utterly -unheard of in after life, where capacity to propel -a boat through the water at high speed or drive a -cricket ball to the boundary counts scarcely at all. -An entire absorption in games to the exclusion of -practically all other interests cannot be called a -healthy feature of education. Loafing, every one -agrees, is a slovenly and demoralising habit, but -fanatical interest in cricket, football, or the river -is bad in another way, for though it may produce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -muscle, it may also, when carried to an extreme, -produce atrophy of the brain.</p> - -<p>In the rough old days, though sporting pursuits, -like fighting, were in high repute, games do not -appear to have been taken very seriously at Eton, -where there was nothing approaching the modern -spirit which makes heroes of the eight and the -eleven. In the eighteenth century, though games -were played, not a few of the more clever boys -would appear to have viewed them with something -of good-humoured contempt.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“I can’t say I’m sorry that I was never quite a schoolboy,” -wrote Horace Walpole; “an expedition against Bargemen, -or a match at cricket may be very pretty things to -recollect; but, thank my stars, I can remember things that -are very near as pretty.”</p></blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">HOOPS</div> - -<p>His friend Gray, though in his famous ode he -touched upon the school games, expressed no -particular enthusiasm for athletics:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">What idle progeny succeed -</div><div class="indentbase">To chase the rolling circle’s speed. -</div><div class="indentone">Or urge the flying ball? -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>Gray, it should be added, originally wrote</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">To chase the hoop’s elusive speed, -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>for, extraordinary as it may appear to the modern -Etonian, the hoop was formerly in high favour with -Eton boys. Trundling a hoop has long been recognised -as one of the best forms of exercise; indeed, -the writer has been told that the present Headmaster -of Eton, in his day an athlete of high<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -distinction, being once abroad where no games -could be played, in order to keep himself fit -purchased a hoop and took to trundling it with -great zest.</p> - -<p>As late as the early part of the nineteenth -century, during the October half, the majority of -Lower School used to indulge in the somewhat -infantile delights of trundling a hoop with a stout -stick. The Eton hoop was made differently from -the ones still used by children, being formed out of -a strong ash lathe with a remnant of bark upon -its surface. The inevitable collisions of hoops and -their trundlers not infrequently led to hostilities, -and on several occasions regular pitched battles -occurred between Collegers and Oppidans. A -famous encounter once took place at the end of -the wall near the Chapel door, about twenty boys -being on each side, one Saturday after four, big -boys in front, little ones behind. Thanks to their -gowns, which they adroitly twisted round one -arm, the Collegers had the best of the encounter, -though the Oppidans were able to draw off without -having been definitely beaten. The contest -excited great interest, a crowd of people watching -the battle, and though the masters were -fully aware of what was going on, no attempt -was made to interfere. For some reason or other, -however, there was no more hoop-trundling till -the following year.</p> - -<div id="Fig_242" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p242.jpg" width="600" height="426" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<div class="boxcap center"> -<p> -<em>“Say Father Thames, for thou hast seen<br /> -<span style="margin-left:1.75em">Full many a sprightly race.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:0.5em">Disporting on thy margent green.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:1.75em">The paths of pleasure trace.”</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left:11em"><span class="smcap">Gray’s Ode.</span></span></em> -</p> -</div> - -<p class="center"><em>From a scarce print in the possession of the Earl of Rosebery, K.G.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>In long-past days another form of amusement, -generally associated with childhood—marbles—enjoyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -an occasional popularity amongst Lower -boys, many of whom prided themselves on the -variegated colours contained in their collections, -whilst for a time “Bandalore”—which, as -“Diabolo,” quite recently enjoyed a great vogue -all over England—quite captivated the school.</p> - -<p>Peg-tops were once in great favour, Weight, -who kept a grocer’s shop and was known as “Old -Tallow Weight,” doing a brisk business in such -tops and the whip-cord necessary to spin them. -The Rev. E. D. Stone (<a href="#Page_61">see page 61</a>) says that -in his day, under Hawtrey, backgammon and -knuckle bones were popular in College.</p> - -<p>About 1770 the games<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> popular at Eton were -“Cricket, Fives, Shirking Walls, Scrambling Walls, -Bally-cally, Battledores, Pegtop, Peg in the ring, -Goals, Hopscotch, Heading, Conquering Lobs, -Hoops, Marbles, Trap-ball, Steal-baggage, Puss in -the corner, Cat-gallows, Kites, Cloyster and Flyer -gigs, Tops, Humming-Tops, Hunt the Hare, Hunt -the dark lanthorn, Chuck, Sinks, Store-Caps, Hustle-cap.” -Of football, it will be observed, there is no -mention; nevertheless it was played, though not in -very good repute. Fives, of course, was then played -between the buttresses of the Chapel, the favourite -time being before eleven-o’clock school, when a -ring of spectators would assemble to watch good -players. As every one knows, the pepper-box of -the modern fives court takes its origin from the -stone termination of the steps leading up to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -Chapel door, which was copied in the first regular -fives court built at Eton in 1847.</p> - -<p>It would seem that the old Eton authorities, -whilst not disapproving of games, did not -attach any very considerable importance to them. -In theory, indeed, boating on the Thames was -forbidden, but in practice even Keate tolerated -the joys of the river, though he made violent -efforts to prevent any rowing before Easter, in -order to prevent the boys from catching chills.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">HOCKEY</div> - -<p>In the ’forties of the last century foot races and -the three-mile steeplechase, with its almost impossible -jumps and immersions, were a source of -considerable interest just before Easter. The -winter games were then football and hockey, the -latter of which, however, only held its ground for -a time, during which it was patronised by many of -the swells. There was then a tradition, which -still seems to exist, that it had been from time to -time forbidden as dangerous; nevertheless it was -played for years without either injury or any -reprimand. The sticks were not rough, but -smoothed and artificially bent, with blades about -a foot long. There were two clubs, called upper -and lower hockey; but football gradually superseded -it, and the game entirely disappeared about -the year 1853. With regard to the prohibition, a -writer mentions (in 1832) hockey and football as -the chief winter games at Eton, and says that more -came away “hobbling” from the latter than from -the former, but speaks further on of a boy having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -in his room “an illegal hockey-stick.” He observes -that this fine old game had died out in -England, except at Eton and Sandhurst, and adds -quaintly: “It is one of the most elegant and -gentlemanly exercises, being susceptible of very -graceful attitudes, and requiring great speed of -foot.”</p> - -<p>As time went on, athletics began to exercise -more and more influence, till in the ’sixties they -attained to much the same preponderant position -as they hold at Eton to-day. A few, however, -viewed the growing worship of skilfully trained -brute force with unconcealed dislike. In the early -’seventies of the last century a little magazine, -called the <cite>Adventurer</cite>, contained an article signed -E. G. R. called “Eton as it is,” which scathingly -attacked the growing deification of muscle rather -than brain:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“While in the world around us, for which we are here -preparing ourselves, a vast worship of intellect universally -prevails, at Eton it is the worship of the body which -enslaves the whole community. What, in our estimation, -is mind, intellect, hard and successful cultivation of the -faculties? Nothing. What is cricket, rowing, athletics, -football? Everything. And our School is meanwhile -being degraded almost to the level of an Athletic Club.... -Idleness holds sway everywhere, and <em>such</em> idleness! As a man -who has never had dealings with the Chinese can have but -a faint idea of what swindling is, so a man who has never -been at Eton has but a poor conception of what idleness is.”</p></blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">“POP”</div> - -<p>This protest was not, however, well received by -the school, the <cite>Adventurer</cite> being expelled from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -the rooms of “Pop,” which, curiously enough, on -its foundation in 1811 by Charles Fox Townshend -as a political and literary society, had only elected -the captain of the boats in order to show that the -members <em>had no prejudice</em> against athletics.</p> - -<p>Its tone was distinctly Conservative. Fourteen -years later, in Mr. Gladstone’s day, only one -member, a Colleger, was suspected of having Liberal -tendencies. Originally “Pop” was located in the -upper room of Mother Hatton’s “sock shop.” In -1846, when the house, together with another, -was formed into Drury’s, “Pop” migrated to the -yard of the old Christopher. The site of Drury’s -is now covered by part of that huge and incongruous -building—the “Memorial Hall.”</p> - -<p>The early members of “Pop,” it is curious to -find, were originally known as the Literati, their -first debate, held on February 9, 1811, dealing with -the question of whether the passage of the Andes -by Pizarro or the passage of the Alps by Hannibal -was the greater exploit. No political event within -fifty years was permitted as a subject for debate. -Mr. Gladstone, who was elected a member in -1825, made his maiden speech before this Society, -the subject being “Is the Education of the Poor -on the whole Beneficial?”</p> - -<p>The future Prime Minister took great pains -to improve himself as an orator, going, it is -said, to rehearse his “Pop” speeches in Trotman’s -gardens, on the site of which the old fives courts -were afterwards built. To the end of his days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -he continued to take great interest in the “Eton -Society.” His correspondence as to its records, in -which every speaker has written his speech, has -been amusingly described by Lord Rosebery, who -on succeeding the great statesman in office one -day received a letter in which the Grand Old Man -expressed himself much distressed because during -a recent visit to the rooms of “Pop” he had seen -a picture of a recent Derby winner over the -chimney-piece. A generation, wrote Mr. Gladstone, -which had such depraved tastes could not, -in his opinion, be fitted to have the custody of -the invaluable records of the Eton Society, and he -therefore begged Lord Rosebery to address the -authorities at Eton on the subject. The state of -affairs of which Mr. Gladstone complained, did -not cause the recipient of his appeal so much -disquiet, for the Derby winner which hung over -the “Pop” mantelpiece was Lord Rosebery’s -own horse, Ladas, which won the great classic -race in 1894.</p> - -<p>Lord Rosebery, who, even in his Eton days, -was a most effective debater, is another member -of “Pop” who has risen to high distinction. Retaining -a singularly keen interest in everything -connected with his old school, he it was who made -the most eloquent and witty speech at the dinner -in the Memorial Hall, where, on July 14, 1911, -400 Etonians, the vast majority old members of -“Pop,” met to commemorate the 100th anniversary -of the Society’s foundation. In the aforesaid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -speech he very happily described “Pop” as being a -noble companionship like the Garter, not always -given for merit, but a high companionship with -illustrious tradition to which anybody might be -proud to belong.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ETON VICEROYS</div> - -<p>Though athleticism has now in a great measure -dominated the “Eton Society,” it must be confessed, -as another distinguished old Etonian, Lord -Curzon, said at the same dinner, that neither title, -means, nor athletic distinction <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">per se</i> ever enabled a -man to get inside the walls of “Pop.” There must -be something else—he must be what the world -calls “a good sort,” and it is well that this happy -state of affairs still remains unchanged. On the -same occasion Lord Curzon pointed out that Eton -had laid a vigorous hand on India, six out of the -last seven Viceroys having been old Eton boys, -whilst that illustrious veteran Lord Roberts was -also an old Etonian.</p> - -<p>In the course of the nineteenth century the -importance of the captain of the boats has gradually -grown, and at the present day his personality -dominates Eton. He occupies a unique position, -being envied and admired by the Upper part of -the school and regarded as a sort of superior -being by Lower boys.</p> - -<p>When, about half a century ago, a Royal Commission -was taking evidence as to the state of -affairs prevailing at Eton, it was elicited in evidence -that “the captains of the boats and the eleven were -scarcely ever distinguished in scholarship or mathematics.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -One master indeed declared that he had -“not observed any boys, during a short experience, -distinguished both in intellect and athletic -pursuits.” Young Lord Boringdon, himself one -of the “eight” for two years, was “afraid that the -crews of the boats were generally distinguished for -want of industrious habits.” Cricket the Commission -pronounced to have been found “hardly -compatible with high scholarship.” Although the -Collegers formed the larger proportion of the -oldest boys in the school, they were seldom in the -eleven, because they were unwilling to spare so -much time from the school work as was considered -necessary for practice.</p> - -<p>In my own Eton days, thirty years ago, the -captain of the school—head of Sixth Form—was -nobody at all in the eyes of the Oppidans. -Few of them indeed knew him by sight, and fewer -still felt any curiosity to do so. As far as I -remember he enjoyed no particular privileges -except the right of presenting a new Headmaster -with a birch tied up with ribbon of Eton blue. -The captain of the Oppidans held a slightly better -position, a sort of idea prevailing that there must -have been something extraordinary about him or -he would not have risen so high in the school, -Oppidans as a rule not being generally considered -very clever or apt to work.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“SWAGGERS”</div> - -<p>Next to the captain of the boats in popular -estimation came the captain of the eleven, who in -his own circle commanded a good deal of attention,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -and of course stood infinitely higher than any -boy distinguished only for intellectual attainments. -The members of the eight and eleven followed -after, together with a few other “swaggers,” who -on account of their prowess at football, rackets, -running, fives, and sometimes even rifle shooting, -were regarded with a certain degree of reverential -awe.</p> - -<p>Of late years, however, a more satisfactory state -of affairs has prevailed, not a few prominent athletes -and oarsmen having shown considerable mental -capacity.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>IX<br /> -ROWING AND GAMES</h2> - - -<p>The early history of Eton rowing is somewhat -obscure, but it is perfectly clear that the Oppidans -have always had control of all rowing arrangements. -In former times, indeed, Collegers only -boated below Bridge, and were rarely seen above; -indeed if they did go up stream they were more -than likely to be molested by Oppidans, who -claimed that part of the river as their own watery -domain.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE BOATS</div> - -<p>Though boating must have gone on at Eton -ever since the foundation of the College, there -would appear to have been no attempt at a regular -organisation till the middle of the eighteenth century. -In 1762 there were three long boats, the -“Snake,” the “Piper’s Green,” and “My Guineas -Lion.” Then, as now, a captain of the boats -presided over the crews. In the early days of -Keate’s reign (1811-1814), however, there seem to -have been six boats—one 10-oar (the “Monarch,” -as now), three 8-oars, and two 6-oars, later on -changed to four 8-oars and one 6-oar. At that -time, as has been the case in later years, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -“Monarch,” though it stood first on the list, and -took precedence of all the other boats, was by -no means the best manned, being, as has been the -case in later years, something of a refuge for -swagger boys who might not be exceptionally fine -oars. For this reason, though it was scarcely -regarded with contempt, yet it could never either -be looked up to as affording a pattern for the other -crews. A place in it, however, was a good thing -to be secured.</p> - -<p>In 1829<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> the Upper boats were the “Monarch,” -“Britannia,” and “Etonian”; the Lower, “Victory,” -“Thetis,” “Defiance,” “St. George,” and -“Dreadnought.” The “Thetis,” it should be -added, replaced the “Hibernia,” which disappeared -as the “Trafalgar” had done. In 1830, however, -one of the Lower boats was called the “Nelson.” -At that time, it should be added, the Lower boats -were made up of Lower boys and Fifth Form -indiscriminately. The revival of the “Nelson” in -1830 was due to a revolt of the Lower boys in -a dame’s house against the Fifth Form, which -ended in the former putting a boat on the river in -order to escape compulsory cricket. The boats -used were clinker built, and either gig or wherry -fashion, the eights mostly of the former. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -had rowlocks, but not outriggers, and must have -been heavy as compared with modern clinker-built -eights. The oars were of the old type, square -loomed, with a button nailed on.</p> - -<p>The original practice in the Lower boats was to -employ watermen (known as “cads”) as strokes -and steerers. Jack Haverley, for instance, who in -1861 became the head waterman employed by the -school, steered the “Defiance” as late as 1830. -Another old custom practised on great occasions -was for each boat to have in it some visitor to -Eton. When, as sometimes happened, the honoured -guest chanced to be a demure gentleman in black, -he looked singularly out of place amidst the gay -costumes of the crew. In old-fashioned times this -“sitter,” as he was called, sat in the centre of -the boat to keep it steady, but in later years he -reclined in the stern, usually with a large hamper -of champagne in front of him, it being the custom -for a sitter to make the boys a present of wine. -In those far-distant days little check would seem -to have been placed upon the boys indulging freely -in alcohol. The writer’s uncle, who as Lord -Walpole steered the “Etonian” in 1830, often -told of the glorious bowls of punch which he and -his friends used to consume. From the account -he gave, the Upper boys at least were then allowed -in most respects to do pretty much as they liked.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A TRICK</div> - -<p>The authorities did not in any way interfere -with anything connected with boating, of the -very existence of which, however, according to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -curious convention, they were supposed to be unaware. -Dr. Keate indeed carried the practice of -ignoring rowing to such an extent that when Eton -beat Westminster at Maidenhead in 1831, he only -heard of it because the news of the victory was -forced upon him. Dr. Hawtrey, however, did recognise -boating as an authorised institution; nevertheless -he did nothing to remove the absurd custom -of regarding boys going to the river as being out -of bounds. In Keate’s day, as has elsewhere been -said, the river was really forbidden before Easter, -owing to an idea that the cold, chilly weather -would produce illness amongst the boys. Some -mischievous “wet bobs,” taking advantage of this -prohibition, in 1829 played an amusing trick on -the masters. The weather just before Easter -happened to be very bad, and “the water” in -consequence was forbidden. Nevertheless, the -boats went up until a grand capture of rebellious -spirits was meditated by the authorities. By some -means this purpose became known, and the wags -masked and dressed up eight “cads” to represent -Upper boys. They had not reached Upper Hope -before the scheme began to take effect. “Foolish -boys! I know you all. Come ashore,” sounded -from one bank. “Come here, or you all will be -expelled,” re-echoed from the other. At last, -after a great deal of shouting and galloping, the -masks were dropped and the joke explained.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SURLY HALL</div> - -<p>In old days, on certain evenings chosen by the -captain of the boats, the Upper crews had regular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -feasts at Surly, known as “Duck and Green Pea” -nights, where there was much conviviality, the -crews being usually elated on the return journey, -on which it was the custom to pull leisurely at first. -As, however, they passed Boveney Church (there -was then no lock) they drew in their oars, and the -watermen who pulled stroke were called on for -songs, which they sang solo, the boys joining in the -chorus. After the watermen were dispensed with, -the same customs continued. This entertainment -was kept up from Boveney to the Rushes, and then -the pulling was “Hard all!” for fear of being late -for Absence, or, as it was then called, for fear of -being “out afresh.” It was on the voyage up, -however, that the rivalry between the boats mostly -took place; but whenever they rowed “Hard all!” -silence was kept, and each boat tried to make a race -of it with the one in front or behind. After the -feast at Surly, songs were sung till the time when -“Oars” was called, when the crews rushed off to -their boats in order to get back before Lock-Up. -The Lower boats, which only escorted the Upper -ones up to Easy Bridge above the Rushes, met -them on their return and took part in the procession -down to the Bridge.</p> - -<p>These “Duck and Green Pea” nights afterwards -developed into the “Check” nights (supposed to be -so called from the shirts of the rowers) which Dr. -Goodford abolished in 1860. “Check” nights took -place on every alternate Saturday after the 4th of -June, at the end of the summer half, and to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -last the crews of the Upper boats maintained the -traditional fare of duck and green peas for which -Surly Hall was celebrated. The old place, which -saw so many generations of Etonians swallow -copious libations of champagne, though it long -survived the abolition of “Check” nights, is now -itself but a memory of the past, having been pulled -down in 1902.</p> - -<p>In former days, on such evenings as boat-racing -had taken place, Eton was very lively indeed, the -crews on their way home stopping to drink the -winners’ healths at the Christopher, and then -walking down arm-in-arm until they reached the -school, where a crowd had collected. As in later -times, the winners were “hoisted” and carried along -by the wall amidst cheers. Windsor Bridge was -then the winning-post of all races, the starting-point -as a rule, it would appear, the Firework Eyot, which -in old maps figures as Cooper’s Ait. The races, it -should be added, were always for money, a good -part of which in all probability was spent in drink.</p> - -<p>The 4th of June and Election Saturday were -celebrated by the Procession of Boats in gala dress -and by fireworks from the Eyot. Previous to 1814 -all the rowers in each boat had a fancy dress -appropriate to the boat. In after years the crews -wore blue jackets with anchors embroidered on the -outside arm, clad in which they pulled all the way -up to Surly. In 1828 checked shirts were introduced, -and this fashion has continued ever since. -On special days the boats had tillers fashioned as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -serpents, and garlanded with oak leaves, instead of -the ordinary wooden tiller or the rudder lines and -yokes which they used in the races. On the 4th -of June and on Election Saturday the crews donned -a special costume, the main features of which were -a dark-blue jacket with brass buttons, hanging loose -in front in order to show the distinctive pattern of -the shirt, over which the silken handkerchief worn -round the neck hung. Up to about 1828 the coxswains -of boats on such great days wore fancy -costumes, but after that date every coxswain was -dressed as a naval officer, increasing in rank according -to the precedence to which his boat was entitled, -and this custom is still followed on the 4th of June. -A somewhat curious coincidence in connection -with the boats is that Lord Rosebery, Lord St. -Aldwyn, and Lord Coventry in their Eton days all -rowed bow in the <em>Monarch</em>—the ten-oar which -seems always to have been one of the boats.</p> - -<p>The great event for Eton oarsmen was formerly -the annual race against Westminster, which in the -early part of the nineteenth century excited the -greatest interest. The proceedings in connection -with the selection of the eight which was to try -conclusions with the London school provoked much -the same interest and enthusiasm as that now -evoked with regard to the Eton crew to be sent to -Henley. The series of contests with Westminster -seems to have commenced in 1829 with a race for -£100 a side. A regular course of training was -always undergone, and for a number of years the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -match was the great event of the summer half. -As time went on, however, it was discontinued, -though revived in 1860 as part of certain -concessions made by the then headmaster, Dr. -Goodford, in consideration of the abolition of -“Check” nights and “Oppidan Dinner.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“OPPIDAN DINNER”</div> - -<p>“Oppidan Dinner” was a survival of the -eighteenth century, and seemingly originated at -the old Christopher. In later days, however, it -was held at the White Hart at Windsor, the -number of boys sitting down being usually about -fifty, each of whom paid something like eighteen -shillings a head, which charge included wine. -The time for this dinner was at the end of the -summer half, and those who took part in it -were members of the Upper boats’ eleven and -Sixth Form and a few other Upper boys. The -captain of the boats managed everything, and sat -at the head of the long table in a room which -stretched right through the inn, one end looking -out upon the castle. The dinner began at four in -the afternoon, an adjournment to Eton taking -place for six o’clock Absence, after which, about -6.30, the boys returned to the White Hart for what -was called “dessert,” though every one expected -to drink rather than to eat. The chief show on the -table consisted of decanters and glasses, all of a very -cheap sort, it being well understood that few would -survive the wholesale breakage which almost -invariably followed the annual feast. Toasts were -then given, the captain of the boats rising first of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -all to propose “The Queen.” This was drunk -standing, amidst an accompaniment of cheers. -“The Prince of Wales and the rest of the Royal -Family” followed, after which the boys waited -eagerly for the toasts which had more immediate -reference to their own particular interests and the -songs which formed part of the evening’s programme. -The proceedings invariably closed with -“Floreat Etona,” the drinking of which was the -signal for breaking up. This toast not unnaturally -evoked wild enthusiasm, and at one time it was the -custom for every one to fling their glasses down -and dash them to pieces on the table. About -half-past eight the diners returned to Eton in -very hilarious mood, the captain of the boats and -other popular athletes being generally subjected to -a very enthusiastic “hoisting.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">CHANGES</div> - -<p>The Eton authorities, though perfectly aware -of this somewhat Bacchanalian feast, never took -any notice of it till it was abolished in 1860. As, -however, old drinking customs decreased, it -became clear that Oppidan Dinner was destined to -disappear, and its existence was threatened years -before it was done away with. It was notorious -that as a result of this banquet a number of boys -came to Absence in a very fuddled condition, and -the headmaster, when calling over the names, had -to keep his eyes well fixed on the list for fear of -seeing behaviour of which he would have been -obliged to take notice. At Lock-Up time things -were worse still, and of the reeling crowd who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -surged down the High Street some occasionally -became so violent that it took six or seven boys -to get them to bed.</p> - -<p>The last Oppidan Dinner of 1859, however, was -by all accounts the most sober on record. Indeed -an aged waiter at the White Hart was moved -almost to tears at the small amount which had been -drunk. Those who took part in it were of more -serious disposition and mind than their rollicking -predecessors of former days, and most people -agreed that the dinner had become an anachronism. -When, however, in the following year R. H. -Blake-Humfrey, captain of the boats, in unison -with the present Provost, Mr. Warre (who had -then just come to Eton as a master), concurred -in its suppression, not a few were taken by surprise, -whilst many an old Etonian of the old school shook -his head and murmured that Eton was going to -the dogs.</p> - -<p>In return for the abolition of “Oppidan Dinner” -and “Check” nights, it was agreed that the eight -should be allowed annually to row at Henley, -whilst “boating bills” were instituted so as to put -aquatics on the same footing as cricket with respect -to exemptions from six o’clock Absence. It was -also laid down that, on days in the summer half -when there was no five o’clock school, the crews of -two eight oars should be excused from “Absence” -on condition of their undertaking to row to within -sight of Cookham Lock. The “strokes” of the -two boats were made responsible, on their words of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -honour, to see that the conditions were fulfilled. -In addition to this, the whole of the High Street, -as far as Windsor Bridge, was placed within bounds, -so that boys going to the “Brocas” or returning -from it were no longer obliged to “shirk” when -they met masters. Finally the annual boat race -with Westminster was to be revived. That very -year a race was duly rowed between Eton and -Westminster at Putney, in which Eton won very -easily. There was, however, nothing extraordinary -about this, for since the old days when Eton and -Westminster had been rival schools the former had -greatly increased in size. Westminster had in -reality barely a chance, for it had been only with -considerable difficulty that an eight had been got -together at all. Though some of the Westminster -oars were good men, the crews that rowed against -Eton from 1860 to 1864 were entirely outmatched -in weight and strength. In addition to which, -in 1861 and 1862 the Eton eight possessed a tower -of strength in their captain and stroke, Mr. R. H. -Blake-Humfrey, who, it should be added, has, in his -introduction to the <cite>Eton Boating Book</cite>, given such -a clear and excellent account of the early history -of Eton rowing. The race between the two -schools did not take place in 1863; instead, the -Westminster boys came down to Eton on Election -Saturday and had supper with the Eton crews in -the meadow opposite Surly Hall. Rowing back to -Windsor, the visitors very nearly became involved -in what might have been a serious catastrophe, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -the cox of the Westminster eight, not being used -to the river, steered the wrong side of the posts -above Boveney Lock, and but for the warning -shout of the steerer of the Eton eight, the Westminster -boat would probably have gone over the -Weir. The match of 1864, in which Eton won -by 27 seconds, was the last occasion upon which -the two eights met. Since then the schools have -developed in different directions, with the result -that the old cordial relations are now in all -probability for ever at an end.</p> - -<p>Modern Eton has produced several famous oarsmen—notably -Mr. S. D. Muttlebury, whose first -triumph was winning the “Lower boy pulling” with -S. S. Sharpe in 1881. The present boating colours -are the Eight, Upper Boat Choices, Upper Boats, -Lower Boat Choices, Lower Boats, the latter of -which all adopted the old Defiance colour in 1885. -For this and other information I have to thank Mr. -F. F. V. Scrulton, the present captain of the boats.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SWIMMING</div> - -<p>Swimming has always been in great favour with -Eton boys, but in old days the authorities paid no -attention to it, and no effort was made to check -boys who could not swim from risking their lives. -There appears, however, to have been some regular -bathing-place as long ago as 1529, for it is -chronicled that in that year a boy was drowned at -“le watering place,” the site of which, however, is -unknown. The first teacher apparently was a -Frenchman named Champeau, nicknamed by the -boys Slipgibbet, who about 1829 taught swimming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -with corks, which state of affairs continued till all -unauthorised teachers of natation were swept away. -Champeau, also playfully known as Shampoo, gave -his lessons at the spot opposite to “Athens.” -The old Frenchman must have been a competent -teacher, for three miles was often accomplished -by some of his pupils, and headers off Windsor -Bridge were not uncommon. Nevertheless, fatal -accidents intermittently occurred. In the early -part of the nineteenth century a boy was drowned -close to Boveney Meads, in the presence of many big -schoolfellows, of whom not one could dive to bring -up the body, though it could be plainly seen by -those who stooped over the sides of the boats—fortunately -at that time broad of beam, otherwise -more boys would probably have perished. Sixty or -seventy years earlier young Barnard (afterwards -Dr. Barnard, Headmaster and Provost) had only -escaped a watery grave owing to the successful -efforts of his schoolfellow, Jacob Bryant, a delicate -boy but a good swimmer. In later years Bryant -became a scholar and philologist well in advance of -his age. The average of deaths from drowning -was once, it is said, about one boy in three years. -This bad state of affairs was ended in 1840 when -George Augustus Selwyn, with William Evans, -organised swimming and instituted the “passing” -at “Cuckoo Weir,” which has now become one of -the regular features of a “wet bob’s” career.</p> - -<p>The Upper Collegers at one time bathed at the -oak in the playing fields, the Lower at a spot not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -far away, which bore the significant name of -“Deadman’s Hole.” Near by was the old wharf, -done away with in 1840, where the Collegers used -to keep their boats. In those days, however, they -went but little on the river, preferring to concentrate -their energies in preparing for the annual -matches at cricket and football with the Oppidans. -The rivalry was then very keen, and in winter was -even shown by fierce snowball fights, in which both -sides often suffered severely. It may seem strange -that seventy boys could face six hundred, but some -of the biggest boys in the school were Collegers, -as they were not superannuated until they were -nineteen.</p> - -<p>About 1828 the annual matches, both at cricket -and football, between the Oppidans and Collegers -were done away with. They were always the most -stoutly contested games of the year, and put both -parties on their mettle far beyond the excitement -of any other match. A good deal of bitterness -was sometimes displayed, and now and then a -smack on the head or a designed “shin” were -given and received; but, on the whole, these -matches did something to draw Oppidans and -Collegers together, and their abolition is to be -deplored, though, in the present age, the great -excess of Oppidans would, it must be confessed, -have rendered their continuance difficult.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ST. ANDREW’S DAY</div> - -<p>Of all the various contests which formerly took -place between Collegers and Oppidans the annual -match at the wall on St. Andrew’s Day alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -survives, and has lost none of its interest, though -the two elevens are chosen from seventy Collegers -and from close on a thousand Oppidans. In -reality the chances of victory are in a great degree -equalised owing to the fact that whilst the Collegers -have every opportunity of playing the game during -the whole of the time—usually about six years—during -which they remain at Eton, only a small -number of Oppidans play at all till within two -years of their leaving school. It would here be -superfluous to enter upon any detailed description -of the game. <span class="sni"><span class="hidev">|</span>THE “WALL”<span class="hidev">|</span></span> Suffice it to say that it is played -within a narrow strip of ground some twenty feet -wide and close up against the old wall built in -1717, the goals being the tree with a white mark -at the end towards Slough, and the door of -Weston’s Yard at the Eton end. The origin of -this peculiar form of football is very obscure. -Mr. E. C. Benthall, K.S., Keeper of the Wall -in the present year, 1911, who has most obligingly -furnished me with some interesting information, -believes that it originated from “passage football,” -and doubts if it was ever played very seriously -till about one hundred years ago, at which time -it was an entirely different game from what it is -now. In spite of its quaint terms, it would seem -to be of no great antiquity, at least in anything -like its present form. The wall itself dates from -1717, but about the earliest record of any regular -game there dates from the first decade of the -nineteenth century, at which time any one who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -chose seems to have been allowed to play, with -the result that there were usually eighteen or -twenty a side. It was then practically the only -form of football popular at Eton, though occasionally -something approaching to the modern “Field -Game” was played in the open. Till 1841, however, -such forms of relaxation were discouraged -by the masters. Nevertheless, on the piece -of grass between the path and the river in -Lower Club the Collegers, up till about 1863, -played a variety known as “Lower College.” -This was probably a link between the field and -wall games, for it had “shies” and “goals.” In -early days the wall game was played on a much -wider strip of ground than is at present the case. -The bully was not its essential feature, and the ball -was often run down the whole length of the wall. -Sixty years or so ago matches of Dames <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">v.</i> Tutors -were occasionally played, and during one of these -the ball somehow was pitched right on the top of -the wall, along which it ran for some eight yards -before coming to a dead standstill on the top.</p> - -<p>The rules were then, of course, more elastic -than those now in use, and since they were -drawn up in 1849 the game has undergone -various minor changes, including the curtailment -of the space at the wall to its present limits and -the toleration (about 1851) of “furking” the ball -back in calx.</p> - -<p>At one time considerable savagery seems to -have been displayed by the rival teams, in consequence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -of which Dr. Hawtrey once suspended -all play for three weeks, and in 1851 it was -actually proposed to abolish the annual match on -St. Andrew’s Day on account of the ill-feeling -which was said to be engendered between Oppidans -and Collegers. Of late years, however, the -historic contest is remarkable for the good-humour -shown by both sides. A quaint figure at the -annual match from 1847 up to 1888, the year before -he fell ill, was old Powell, whose old-fashioned -velveteen coat and high top-hat were survivals of -another age. During his long superintendence -of the wall he had seen many generations of -Collegers and Oppidans contending for goals and -shies. After ten years of confinement and suffering -he died in 1899.</p> - -<p>The wall game is as different from any other -form of football as it is possible to imagine. To -one unacquainted with its intricacies, nothing can -be more curious than the bully close up against -the wall, and the efforts of those forming it to -prevent kicks sending the ball out—that is to say, -beyond the line marked as the limit within which -play takes place. The rules really amount to a -sort of complicated creed, which has been handed -on from one generation of Collegers to another. -A good deal of the game is mystifying to a -spectator unacquainted with its intricacies. A -“calx bully,” for instance, is highly difficult to -explain, whilst the necessary preliminaries for a -“shy” at goals are often, owing to the confusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -of the struggle, visible only to the umpire. The -summit of a wall-player’s ambition is to throw a -“goal,” which feat, in the annual St. Andrew’s Day -match, has only been accomplished three times -within the last hundred years—in every case by -a Colleger. W. Marcon threw one in 1842, -when College won by a goal and 19 shies, 17 of -which were got by H. Phillott in rapid succession. -H. J. Mordaunt, captain of the eleven in 1886, -threw another in 1885, when he hit the door just -at the bottom. <span class="sni"><span class="hidev">|</span>A HISTORIC GOAL<span class="hidev">|</span></span> The name of this fine athlete, -the writer (who knew him at Eton) is informed, -is still a household word in College, where his -goal is held in greater reverence than that scored -in 1909. Mordaunt’s was an unaided effort, whilst -the latter seems to have been rather lucky. Nevertheless, -Finlay and Creasy deserved the greatest -credit for their presence of mind. In 1858, it -should be added, a throw by Hollingworth was -disputed.</p> - -<p>Though of all pastimes the wall game is least -adapted for summer, time-honoured usage prescribed—and -after a discontinuance for four years -now once again prescribes—that at six o’clock on -the morning of Ascension Day a mixed team -of Collegers and Oppidans should meet at the -“Wall.” The origin of this custom I have been -unable to ascertain. Like the game played on -the last evening of last summer half, it probably -took its rise from boyish enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>In connection with the wall game, the name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -of James Kenneth Stephen—the gifted J. K. S., -who in his prime was so unfortunately snatched -away by death—will never be forgotten. Captain -of the College team in 1876-1877, he was a great -supporter of “noster ludus muralis,” as he has -left on record in his “Quo Musa Tendis,” one -stanza of which runs—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">There’s another wall with a field beside it, -</div><div class="indentone">A wall not wholly unknown to fame, -</div><div class="indentbase">For a game’s played there which most who’ve tried it -</div><div class="indentone">Declare is a truly noble game. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>College, it is pleasant to know, seems unlikely -ever to forget this true son of Eton, for on the -evening of St. Andrew’s Day each of the wall -team in turn drinks “In piam memoriam, J. K. S.,” -every raising of the cup as it is passed around being -followed by a cheer.</p> - -<p>A brilliant young contemporary of J. K. S. -who played at the wall in 1880 is happily still -left to us. This is Mr. A. C. Benson, whose fine -intellect and delightful achievements in the fields -of literature have rendered his name well known -to that greater public which joins with Etonians -in admiration of his work.</p> - -<p>College may well be proud of having produced -two such men as these.</p> - -<p>Till the middle of the fifties in the last century -the wall game was also played at the red brick -wall in front of the boys’ entrance to the house -which about 1790 was built overlooking the -Timbralls. For nearly a quarter of a century after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -play had ceased to take place there, the calces -marked in chalk could still be discerned. The -field game is a rather modern institution. As -has before been said, ordinary football does not -seem to have been very popular amongst Etonians -of a hundred years ago, though in the last -century it gradually rose in favour. A curious -character of other days was old Strugnal, who -was celebrated for tightening the bladder of a -football by means of blowing through a piece of -tobacco pipe placed in his mouth. On the whole, -the annals of Eton football, a primitive form of -which in the eighteenth century was known as -“goals,” with the exception of some exciting house -matches, do not possess any great interest.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">CRICKET</div> - -<p>Cricket, unlike football, was popular at Eton -over two hundred years ago, having been played -as early as 1706, and in high favour in Horace -Walpole’s day. About the first great Etonian -cricketer was the eighth Lord Winchilsea, who -afterwards became chief patron of the famous -Hambledon Club. At one time he made an -attempt to introduce an innovation by increasing -the stumps to four, but the change was never -popular, though in the match between the -Gentlemen and Players in 1837, in order to equalise -the contest, the latter undertook to defend four -stumps instead of three. In 1751 three matches -for £1500 were played between the Gentlemen of -England and Eton College, Past and Present; the -former won the stakes, winning two out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -three matches. The players were dressed in silk -jackets, trousers, and velvet caps. In 1791 Lord -Winchilsea made 54 runs in a contest between -Old Etonians <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">versus</i> the Gentlemen of England. -This was played at old “Lord’s,” where Dorset -Square now stands. In the same year the school -beat the Maidenhead Club by four wickets. Keate -was one of the seven Collegers playing, and -scored 0 and 4, while in the second innings -Way “nipped himself out” for 11. Five years -later a match seems to have taken place against -Westminster on Hounslow Heath, in defiance -of the Headmaster’s strict orders; it resulted -in the defeat of Eton and the flogging of all the -Eleven!</p> - -<p>In those days there was a good deal of jollity in -connection with the cricket in the playing fields, -and the boys were allowed to do many things -which would be thought very reprehensible to-day. -Up to about 1827, for instance, a beer tent used -to be allowed when cricket matches were played. -Two or three years later Eton cricket for some -reason or other admittedly deteriorated, a disastrous -state of affairs which was thus explained by one of -the “cads” who used to hover about the shooting -fields: “Lord, sir, they never has won a match -since the beer tent got the sack, and never will no -more.” This tent, where “beer and baccy” were -the order of the day before it gave offence to the -higher powers, was kept, at every match, by the -veteran Jem Miller for the accommodation of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -the “cads,” Broconalian Club, and other loungers, -and loudly and lustily did they cheer the boys with -their stentorian lungs. It was from this tent that -one of the best bowlers and batters Eton ever -produced—in after years a prominent divine at -King’s—was encouraged by the deafening shouts -of “Goo it, my dear Harding; goo it, my dear boy,” -when he scored 86 runs off his own bat against -Messrs. Ward, Vigne, Tanner, and others of the -Epsom Club. It was on this memorable day, too, -that he made a tremendous hit over the shooting-field -trees, high in the air, of course, when a -bargeman from the tent, lost in amazement at the -hit, thundered out, “There she goes for Chessy -[Chertsey] Church, by Jingo!” it being a prominent -mark on the river for the bargees.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“WATER BOILS,” “MAKE TEA”</div> - -<p>According to all accounts, cricket in those less -strenuous days was not taken any too seriously. -Boys did not change their clothing to play it, -though they did so for football. Once during a -match in Upper Club a fight was reported to be -going on in the playing fields, and in a few -minutes gentlemen, spectators, and cricketers not -actually playing scampered over Sheep’s Bridge, -eager to witness the contest. Formerly tea in -Upper Club was made by fags. The well-known -cries of “Water boils!” “Make tea!” originated -during this now obsolete state of affairs.</p> - -<p>Though all Bacchanalian gaiety had disappeared -from the playing fields by the middle of the last -century, a somewhat free-and-easy spirit still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -prevailed, and on the occasion of school matches -there was usually a good deal of fun, especially -when Billy Boland—a celebrated character and -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bon vivant</i> of the past, who was supposed to have -been the original of Fred Bayham in Thackeray’s -novel of <cite>The Newcomes</cite>—was present. He it was -who once, after lunch during a cricket match -between the school and I Zingari, presented -Dr. Hawtrey, the then headmaster, with the -Freedom of the Club in a deal box, and wound -up a mock speech with the toast: “Floreat Etona -et vivat ‘Nitidissimus’ Hawtrey!” This was -peculiarly appropriate, for with his velvet-collared -coat the Doctor was the smartest of men and wore -the best-varnished boots in the world.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">THE FIRST MATCH AT LORD’S</div> - -<p>The first regular match played by Eton against -a public school appears to have taken place in 1799, -when an Eton eleven met Westminster at old -Lord’s. On this occasion Eton in their innings -made only 47 runs. Westminster then went in and -scored 13, when the stumps were drawn, with five -wickets to fall. The match was said to be “postponed,” -but there is no account to be found of -its ever having been resumed. Next year Eton -had an easy victory, making a score of 213 in -one innings, against Westminster’s 54 and 31. -Curiously enough, the Collegers at that time -constituted the strength of the eleven and made -the biggest scores. Benjamin Drury, afterwards -an assistant master, Joseph Thackeray, and Thomas -Lloyd, elder brother of the bishop, were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -bowlers. Poor Lloyd, who beat the Westminster -innings off his own bat, died after the holidays -from the effects of a chill which he caught during -the match. This would seem to have been the last -match with Westminster.</p> - -<p>The first Eton and Harrow contest took place -in 1805 at Lord’s, when Eton won in a single -innings. On this occasion Byron made 7 and 2 -for the beaten school. Eight of the winning -eleven (among whom was Lord Stratford de -Redcliffe) were King’s scholars. After this no -authentic record exists of any match till 1818, -when Harrow beat Eton. Apparently the whole -thing was rather a fiasco; only two of the best -Eton men were present at Lord’s, the rest of the -eleven being made up of such Etonians as could be -collected on the ground. In the following year, -however, Eton beat Harrow in one innings; in -1822 Harrow beat Eton. In 1832 Eton scored -a great triumph, beating Harrow and Winchester -each in one innings. The match of 1841 was -remarkable for the great innings of Emilius Bayley, -who made 153, up to then the highest score ever -achieved by any player in a public school match. -Oddly enough, however, that same year Eton -was beaten hollow by Winchester. In 1846 -Eton repeated the great performance of 1832 -and again vanquished Harrow and Winchester -each in a single innings. One of the eleven on -this occasion was J. W. Chitty (in after life -the Rt. Hon. Lord Justice Chitty), who played<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -four years for Eton, in the last of which—1847—he -was captain of the eleven.</p> - -<p>A great character well known to Eton cricketers -of the forties was M’Niven minor, who, Mr. -Coleridge declares, in his interesting recollections, -was in Sixth Form, the football team, and the -eight, as well as in the eleven. Commonly called -“Snivey,” this fine athlete seems to have been -very notorious for his wild eccentricities and -oddities of dress, which, however, in nowise -impaired a universal popularity.</p> - -<p>During the fifties of the last century Eton -cricket was not in a very flourishing state. The -smart thing was to be in the boats, and “dry-bobs” -were rather looked down upon till 1860, when -a strenuous effort began to be made to end the -long series of reverses which the school had sustained -in its annual matches against Harrow. -The engagement of a professional cricketer and -improvements in Upper Club aroused great interest, -and so much excitement was the result that when -in that year Eton made rather a good fight at -Lord’s, all sorts of absurd rumours were born of -the indignation provoked by defeat. It was said, -for instance, that Daniel, the Harrow captain, -was really a professional in disguise—this was -because he wore whiskers and a straw hat!</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“POCKETS”</div> - -<p>In 1861, when the late Mr. R. A. H. Mitchell, -who afterwards as a master did so much for -Eton cricket, was captain, the match was unfinished, -and only in the next year did Eton<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -score its first victory against Harrow since 1850. -The finish (like that of 1910) gave rise to much -excitement, and feeling ran very high, both sides -indulging in merciless chaff. The report that -the Harrow headmaster—Dr. Butler—had shortly -before issued an order that all side-pockets were -to be sewn up, with a view to prevent slouching, -gave the Eton boys an opportunity of which -they were not slow to take advantage, and -accordingly the ground resounded with yells of -“Pockets” throughout the day. The hero of -the day was A. S. Teape, whose bowling did so -much to win the match, at the close of which -he was accorded an enthusiastic ovation. A large -proportion of the spectators were quite carried -away by excitement, and several fights took -place between members of the rival schools, -whilst two well-known Eton and Harrow “cads,” -both pretty well “sprung,” started a little mill -on their own account, much to the amusement -of the onlookers. Probably the encounter was -a prearranged affair, for the old rascals took -good care not to hurt each other, and reaped -a considerable harvest by sending the hat round -afterwards. One of the winning team that -year was Mr. Alfred Lubbock, the great Eton -cricketer who became captain in 1863, in -which year he made the magnificent score of 174, -not out, against Winchester. Every old Etonian -should read the book written by him some little -time ago, one chapter of which was contributed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -by his son, Mr. Robin Lubbock, K.S., a member -of the eleven of 1896-1897. A young man of -high promise, he most unfortunately met with an -early death through a sad accident in the hunting-field. -The names of Lubbock, Lyttelton, and -Studd will always be associated with the history -of Eton cricket. For six successive years—1861 -to 1866—there was always a Lubbock in the eleven, -whilst three Lytteltons (one of whom was the -present Headmaster) played at Lord’s in 1872, -and three Studds in 1877.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A CURIOUS “RAG”</div> - -<p>In former days there was often much rowdiness -after an Eton and Harrow match, which, for some -unknown reason, seemed to send a certain amount -of hot-blooded youngsters almost mad. In the -early eighties of the last century the present writer -witnessed a curious development of this spirit. -Returning to Eton in the evening after the match -was over, he found himself in a railway carriage -filled with a number of boys he did not know, -together with one old Etonian, apparently a newly -joined subaltern of some cavalry regiment. For a -little time after the train had started the party -more or less calmly discussed the match, but all of a -sudden the old Etonian, who was in a most excited -state, began to smash up the carriage, tearing -down the hat-racks and breaking the windows, -in which work of destruction he was cheerfully -seconded by his companions, who eventually, when -the train came to the bridge over the river near -Windsor, threw most of the cushions and all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -advertisement placards, which they had wrenched -off, into the river. The writer was the more -struck by this scene on account of the party not -in any way suggesting that he should join in -it; and as a matter of fact, reading a paper and -smoking (nearly every boy then smoked when -going to or leaving Eton), he sat undisturbed upon -the only cushion not thrown out of window. -He was a very small boy at the time, and the -wreckers, who were big ones, treated him throughout -with great courtesy. The damage, owing -to the great crowd of boys returning to Eton, -was apparently not discovered by the station -officials on the arrival of the train at Windsor, nor -was anything heard of it afterwards by the school, -though the writer has reason to believe that some -other carriages were also wrecked on the same -train. In all probability the authorities, aware of -the impossibility of detecting the offenders, preferred -to let the whole matter rest. It was a -curious instance of the passion for destruction -which occasionally takes possession of youth.</p> - -<p>The first match between Eton and Winchester -seems to have been played in 1826, when Winchester -won. Afterwards, up to 1854, it was -played at Lord’s. Success was pretty evenly -divided till 1845, when a tie produced great interest -and excitement. In that year the late Provost, -Dr. Hornby, was a member of the Eton team. -In old days the Winchester boys played in tall -white beaver hats, but the Etonians wore straw.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -In 1856 the match was played at Winchester, -neither school being allowed to come to town, and -since then the elevens have met on the Eton and -Winchester ground alternately.</p> - -<p>Sixpenny, which appears to have taken its name -from the Sixpenny Club, founded for Lower boys -by G. J. Boudier, 1832-1838, captain of the eleven, -an Etonian who is said to once have thrashed a -bargee three times his own size, was formerly a -much-coveted Lower boy colour. It was, however, -done away with in 1898, but Upper Sixpenny -is still an important cricket colour for Uppers -who are also Juniors, as it is now the first colour -a young cricketer can obtain at Eton, where, if -you once get a name as a promising bat, bowler, -or field, it is difficult to lose it, whereas if a boy -does not start well, little attention is afterwards -paid to him.</p> - -<p>A curious modern Eton cricket institution is -“Second Upper Club,” nominally the second game -in the school, but in reality consisting of Upper -boys who are distinguished in the school, mostly in -some other line than cricket, though a number of -quite good players also belong. A few years ago -some of the games played by Second Upper Club -degenerated into huge “rags,” ending with an early -adjournment to little Brown’s, whence, after a huge -tea had been partaken of, every one went off to -bathe.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AGAR’S PLOUGH</div> - -<p>A feature of modern Eton is “Agar’s Plough,” -just across Datchet Lane, well laid out for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -purposes of the school games. This large tract -of land was saved from the speculative builder -by purchase in 1895, and here, eight years later, -for the first time was played the Eton and -Winchester match. As a cricket ground Agar’s -Plough possesses several advantages over the -historic Upper Club, known in the distant past -as the Upper Shooting Fields. One of the chief -gains is, of course, the absence of big trees to -confuse the light. Whether, however, Upper Club -is discarded for school matches or not, it will -always remain a hallowed spot in the recollection -of old Etonians who as boys knew it in its summer -glory. Full of picturesque associations and shaded -by stately elms planted in the days of the Commonwealth, -the beautiful old ground has seen many -a generation of Eton boys pass o’er its pleasant -sward of green. Besides Agar’s Plough modern -Eton possesses other facilities for games undreamt -of in less luxurious days. Amongst these are -the new racquets courts near the gasworks which -in 1902-3 took the place of those down Keate’s -Lane.</p> - -<p>At the present day there is no tennis at Eton, -but a tennis court appears to have existed between -1600 and 1603, though, curiously enough, its -site has never been ascertained. Near the new -racquets courts thirty-eight new fives courts have -been built since 1870.</p> - -<p>The excellent game of fives, which has now -attained a comparatively widespread popularity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -originated in the spaces between the Chapel -buttresses being utilised for play. The one next -the flight of steps, with its so-called pepper-box, is -the model from which all modern fives courts are -built. The first of these were constructed at Eton -in Trotman’s gardens in 1847, and enjoyed great -popularity in their early days. Since, however, -the number of fives courts has been largely augmented, -the old courts seem to have fallen into -great disrepute. In the writer’s day, although -such new courts as existed were naturally the -most in request, boys still ran to obtain one of -the old ones. It was a rule that no court could -be considered taken unless there was some one -actually upon it, to claim it by the right of -occupancy. The consequence was that they -always became the reward of the swift, or of those -who were let out of school earlier than the rest; -keen struggles ensued, and the stream of runners -flying down Keate’s Lane day after day testified -to the eagerness of spirit which could prompt boys -to exhaust themselves merely to obtain the chance -of getting a game. It was then the custom for the -boy first in a court to mark his right of possession by -putting down his hat in it. The original fives -court between the buttresses of the Chapel had -been long unused, though there was sometimes a -knock-up between Lower boys waiting to go into -school.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">COLOURS</div> - -<p>Colours at Eton, except those of the eleven -and of the eight, which in some form or other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -probably existed as far back as the eighteenth -century, are of modern origin. The parti-coloured -scarlet and Eton blue shirt of the field only dates -from 1860, and the dark blue and red of the wall -from 1861. A year later saw the birth of house -colours. About the same time a great craze for -wearing colours on every possible occasion made -itself felt. In old days boys had been supposed to -shirk masters when in change clothes, but now a -tendency to run into an opposite extreme produced -an agitation in favour of greater laxity regarding -dress. The authorities, however, rightly deeming -that Eton should retain its old traditions as to tall -hats and the like, stood firm, every reasonable -concession having long before that date been -granted. Only quite recently indeed have boys -been allowed to answer their names at Absence in -change clothes, an innovation which many an old -Etonian, mindful of the ancient traditions of the -school, must surely deplore.</p> - -<p>This chapter cannot be concluded without some -reference to the Eton Hunt, as the beagles have -sometimes been facetiously called. The pack in -question would appear to have first been started -about 1840 under the auspices of Anstruther-Thompson, -in after life one of the best-known and -most popular Masters of Hounds in England. For -some years later its existence was rather precarious, -at times resembling that of a contemporary -College pack which was once declared to -consist of a single long-backed Scotch terrier.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -From the earliest days of the hunt, however, there -appears to have been some attempt at a regular -organisation. The whips, for instance, had E.C.H. -on the buttons of their coats, which Dr. Hawtrey -(Edward Craven), who of course knew of the existence -of the hunt, though he did not recognise it, interpreted -as a delicate compliment to himself. At -one time the Collegers and Oppidans each had a -separate pack of their own, but these were amalgamated -in 1866.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">HYSTERICAL SENTIMENT</div> - -<p>Drag hunts were formerly rather popular with -the followers of the Eton beagles, and sometimes -very good runs were enjoyed. One of the “cads” -about the wall, known as Polly Green, an active -fellow who used to go across country uncommonly -well, afforded very good sport. At that time the -beagles had not been recognised by the authorities, -and were kept more or less secretly a good way out -of bounds, in a small kennel at the corner of the -Brocas near the river. Eventually, however, the -pack became known to every one, including the -masters, who, with great good sense, far from -discouraging it, gave it encouragement and approval, -and thereby raised the character of the sport whilst -increasing its popularity in the school. In 1884 -the mastership of Lord Newtown-Butler—now -Major the Earl of Lanesborough—was particularly -successful, this gallant and popular Guardsman -having ever been the incarnation of geniality and -good-natured fun. There is no need to deal here -with the absurd agitation of so-called humanitarians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -for the pack’s suppression. Suffice it to say that -the greatest credit is due to the present Headmaster -for having refused to listen to the voice of -hysterical sentimentalism. May his successors be -equally firm!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>X<br /> -YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY</h2> - - -<p>The old type of Eton Masters and Fellows is -now practically extinct, but thirty or forty years -ago quite a number of them were still flourishing. -Not a few were quaint and eccentric -figures both in their appearance and their ways. -About the quaintest of all was the Rev. F. E. -Durnford, universally known as “Judy,” who was -Lower master from 1864 to 1877. He has been -aptly described as “a sort of Ancient Mariner in -academic garb,” for he had a strange weather-beaten -aspect, the result, no doubt, of having for -many years battled with successive hordes of -impish Lower boys—“nahty, nahty boys,” as he -called them—much of whose time was occupied in -giving the good old man all the trouble they could. -Mr. Durnford, though he could never master the -pronunciation of French, was somewhat fond of -interlarding Gallicisms in his discourse, which, of -course, never failed to arouse unbridled merriment. -He himself was perfectly aware of his imperfections -as a linguist, and would at times attempt to -allay such outbursts by the somewhat pathetic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -remark, “Ah, boys, it’s my misfortune, not my -fault.” He was a very good-natured old man, -whose main failing perhaps was being inclined -towards an excess of leniency, in which respect his -successor, the Rev. J. L. Joynes, erred far less.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“OLD JIMMY”</div> - -<p>This pedagogue, though the most kindly of -men, would stand no nonsense. Many will remember -him in Lower School, with the picturesque -interior of which, full of old woodwork cut with -the names of vanished generations, his personality -accorded so well. He had rather a peculiar voice, -and pronounced words like “tutor” and “nuisance,” -“tootor” and “noosance.” Rather a better preacher -than most of his colleagues, his sermons in “old -Lower Chapel” were sometimes marked by a -certain originality which caused them to be listened -to with interest and attention. In his school -days “Jimmy Joynes,” or “old Jimmy,” as he -was affectionately called, had been captain of the -College team at the wall and a fine fives player, -and as a master he continued to take great interest -in the latter game, giving a cup to be played for by -the house over which he presided before becoming -Lower Master. In the latter capacity, though -an extremely kind-hearted man, he could, as was -well known to the boys under his charge, be -severe enough upon occasion, and the writer well -remembers seeing him administer what was considered -a tremendous flogging to a delinquent, who -afterwards had a distinguished military career. This -consisted of some thirty-two cuts laid on with two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -birches, to the great astonishment of a number -of Lower boys present at the execution. The -victim, a boy of great pluck, was little disturbed -by this castigation, though it was very much more -serious than most of the many floggings he had -suffered before. As a matter of fact, it was only -the swishings of the Lower master which inflicted -any real physical pain, the few strokes which the -Head, Dr. Hornby, administered being generally -more in the nature of a formal reproof than anything -else—at least that was the experience of -the present writer, who well remembers that on -retiring from the torture-chamber next Upper -School he reflected that if one was to be flogged at -all, the thing could not be conducted in a more -pleasant and dignified way.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. HORNBY</div> - -<p>In his relations with the boys Dr. Hornby -was ever a great gentleman, as the following -incident, which occurred during the writer’s Eton -days, will show. Two of the sons of a celebrated -potentate were then at the school, and Queen -Victoria took the warmest interest in them; the -eldest, in particular, was a great favourite of hers. -One day, owing to some untruthfulness in connection -with work, this young Prince was complained -of, and though he might have got off by -claiming “first fault” owing to forgetfulness, was -soundly swished. At the same time he received -a severe, though kindly lecture, in which the -“Head” pointed out how such behaviour would -pain his parents and the Queen, were it ever to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -reach her ears. Curiously enough, that very -evening Dr. Hornby happened to be dining at -Windsor, and as usual his Royal hostess did not -fail to make particular inquiry as to how her -protégé was getting on. What was the surprise of -the young Prince during the following morning to -find himself once again summoned to the “library,” -and as he wended his way to the grim scene of correction, -he wondered what he could have done to -be whipped again so soon. All unpleasant anticipations -were, however, quickly dispelled. In those -gently modulated tones which so many old Etonians -will remember, Dr. Hornby described how, on the -previous evening, a certain great lady had asked -after her favourite Eton boy, and desired to be -informed as to how he had been getting on in -the school. “I told you yesterday,” Dr. Hornby -went on to say, “that one lie always leads to -another, and I am sorry to say in the present -instance this adage has not failed to hold good, -for,” added he, “I am ashamed to say that, instead -of telling Her Majesty of the disgraceful behaviour -for which but a few hours before I had been obliged -to punish you, I said that you were getting on -very well. Under these circumstances I feel sure -that you will do all you can to give no further -trouble, and so, by causing my words to come true, -make amends for the falsehoods which we have -both of us uttered.” The kindly admonition made -a considerable impression upon the culprit’s mind. -Nevertheless, he could not help being amused when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> -the next Sunday, in Chapel, he heard the Doctor -take as his text, “All men are liars.”</p> - -<p>In appearance Dr. Hornby was the absolutely -perfect type of an Eton Headmaster. Immaculately -dressed, and of fine presence, he possessed -a natural dignity which even impressed boys totally -lacking in reverence for all other institutions of the -school. His voice, low and not unpleasant even -when delivering a stem admonition, was essentially -the voice of an English gentleman of the fine old -school. It was a real pleasure to hear him call -“Absence,” owing to the dignity which he imparted -to this tedious duty. Curiously enough, this Headmaster, -who in his latter years, at least, might have -been called the incarnation of the best kind of -Eton Conservatism, had on his appointment been -regarded as a Radical. The first Oppidan, I believe, -ever chosen Headmaster, he had succeeded Dr. -Balston in 1868, when the latter had relinquished -the post from disapproval of the various innovations -and changes which resulted from the recommendations -of the Public School Commission, the -labours of which extended over seven years.</p> - -<p>The growing worship of athleticism was in some -measure responsible for the appointment of the -new Headmaster, though Dr. Hornby, besides -having been in the eleven, was also a fine scholar. -When he first came to Eton the school, used to -the patriarchal sway of his predecessor, who had -strictly followed the traditions of the past, were -rather inclined to regard him as a dangerous reformer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -but before long it was realised that such -Radical proclivities as the new Headmaster possessed -were not very likely seriously to impair the -traditional round of Eton life, and the school -gradually subsided into a tranquil consciousness -that nothing outrageous would be perpetrated -under the new “Head,” who long before his retirement -grew to be far more Conservative than -some of his subordinates; indeed, during his tenure -of the Headmastership, which lasted sixteen years, -four Assistant Masters are said to have left Eton -owing to Dr. Hornby disapproving of some of -their ideas. One of these exiles was young Mr. -Joynes, whose socialistic tendencies obviously unfitted -him for the post of an Eton master; another, -Mr. Oscar Browning, whose clever and genial -personality is so well known to numbers of old -Etonians.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. BALSTON</div> - -<p>Dr. Balston remained at Eton as Vice-Provost, -and I remember that we regarded him with a good -deal of sympathy as having preferred to resign -rather than to yield to meddling on the part -of the governing body, then still looked upon as -rather a new-fangled affair. During his short -term of office he had refused to sanction any -alterations at all. Possessed of an unlimited -respect for old traditions and ways, his conception -of a Headmaster was that he should exercise a sort -of dignified and patriarchal sway, whilst carrying -out a solemn trust to maintain things as they had -always been. Whilst Head he had borne himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -with unbending dignity, being almost never -seen out of academic dress, in which, it was said, -he even went to bed. The same story, I believe, -had been current in the days when Dr. Goodford, -familiarly known as “Old Goody,” ruled the school. -Some indeed declared that a gown and cassock -were all he wore. As Provost, however, the latter -was seen about Eton in ordinary costume and -invariably carrying an umbrella. A quaint, queer -figure this survivor of a past era looked with his -hat at the back of his head and hands covered with -unbuttoned black gloves much too big for him.</p> - -<p>At that time the old Fellows who were still -alive used to preach the most lengthy and incomprehensible -sermons in Chapel, but in that line Dr. -Goodford easily held his own against all. Owing -to a peculiar intonation, his mouth always seemed -to be full of pebbles, and it was practically impossible -to make out one sentence of the vast -number which trickled from his lips. Nevertheless -we rather liked the good old man, whose curious -sing-song induced sleep rather than irritation. Dr. -Goodford’s entry into Chapel with the aged verger, -who on account of the silver wand he bore was -called the “Holy Poker,” was a thing which many -Etonians will recall to mind.</p> - -<p>Amongst the Assistant Masters of some thirty -years ago, about the most conspicuous figure, -owing to a long flowing beard, was the Rev. -C. C. James, for some reason or other known -as “Stiggins.” He enjoyed no great measure of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -popularity out of his house, where, it should be -added, he fed his boys better than almost any other -tutor or dame. At one period of his career he had -narrowly escaped being thrown over Barnes Pool -Bridge by a riotous party of boys, and though no -one seemed to know the exact reason of this, with -later generations it undoubtedly led to his being -regarded with a certain rather unjust suspicion.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“BADGER HALE”</div> - -<p>A far more sympathetic figure was the Rev. E. -Hale, known to the boys as “Badger Hale,” probably -on account of his hair bearing some remote -resemblance to the coat of that animal. Besides -being a cleric, Mr. Hale was an officer of the Eton -Volunteers. He was of great girth, and when in -uniform presented a really stupendous appearance, -in which the boys took great delight. At that time -the Volunteers were perhaps not taken so seriously -as is the present Officers’ Training Corps, with its -more workman-like appearance and ways. Though -there were occasional field-days, the principal -evolution of the 2nd Bucks was to march, headed -by its band, to the playing-fields. Founded in -1860, by the late ’seventies it had abandoned a good -deal of its splendours, blue worsted cord having -taken the place of the original silver lace, whilst the -colours presented by Mrs. Goodford had ceased to -be carried, the Eton Volunteers being at that time -a rifle corps. Now, however, that it has become -the Officers’ Training Corps, they have once more -been taken into use. The silver bugle given by -Lady Carrington is presumably still carried.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">DR. WARRE</div> - -<p>The chief support of the Corps has always been -its present Honorary Colonel, the Rev. E. Warre, -now Provost of Eton, who for many years took -a most active part in striving to maintain its well-being -and efficiency. Few have done so much for -Eton as he; his whole life, indeed, has been devoted -to furthering the best interests of the school. As -an Assistant Master he was the avowed champion -of strenuousness and efficiency, whilst opposed to -old ways and traditions tending towards a slack -state of affairs. A strong and dominating personality, -he was intensely popular with the boys -in his own house, but a good part of the school -regarded him with a certain amount of suspicion -as entertaining revolutionary ideas, which it was -said were only kept in check by the firmness of -Dr. Hornby, who in the last days of his Headmastership -was looked upon as the staunch defender -and champion of old Eton ways. In the minds -of ultra-conservative Etonians Dr. Hornby stood -for Conservatism, as Dr. Warre did for change. -Such an estimate was not altogether without -foundation, for after Dr. Warre had succeeded to -the supreme control of the school, a number of -alterations, some of them, no doubt, quite necessary, -were made. The general feeling amongst Eton -boys at that time was Tory in the extreme, and -though we knew scarcely anything about him -except that he had flogged a good deal, I am sure -that a great many of us would have been delighted -to hear that Dr. Keate, having returned to life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -had been entrusted with the task of reorganising -the school with a view to getting it back into the -condition of the good old days.</p> - -<p>On the whole the reforms made by Dr. Warre -during his Headmastership seem to have produced -satisfactory results. Most of them dealt with -alterations in the scholastic curriculum of the school, -all the old customs open to criticism, such as -“Oppidan Dinner,” having long disappeared. -Without doubt, under his rule the boys were made -to work harder than before, whilst its tone gained -in manliness and vigour. At the same time the -traditional spirit of Eton remained unimpaired, and -before his retirement Dr. Warre, like his predecessors, -had come to be considered a bulwark -of Eton Conservatism.</p> - -<p>The Headmastership of the school would appear -to have a sobering tendency upon even the most -advanced reformer, who at the end of his term of -office has generally lost his enthusiasm for innovation -and change. The present Headmaster is a -case in point. When he came to Eton a few -years ago many were full of gloomy forebodings -as to the reforms he was about to make. Mr. -Lyttelton was known to hold a number of advanced -views—rumour indeed declared that he would try -and force vegetarianism upon the boys and -would make them wear Jaeger underclothing, for -which material he was declared to have a marked -partiality. On assuming office, however, he somewhat -allayed these fears by giving an address in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -which he announced that he was not going to -stop tap, interfere with clothing, or abolish the -beagles, to which he had been declared hostile. -As a matter of fact, nothing could have been more -loyal than his behaviour in this latter respect, for, -far from discouraging the Eton Hunt, he has -defended it against the ridiculous attacks of -various faddists and cranks. It is, however, to -be regretted that an agitator was two years ago -allowed to address the school on the subject of -unemployment from the Chapel steps in the -school-yard. The vast majority of the parents of -Eton boys do not wish their sons to be taught -Socialism, and the school-yard, so closely connected -with the old traditions of Eton, is the very last -place where any theories of this kind should be -permitted to be aired. As a matter of fact, the -address, which under no circumstances could have -done good, merely provoked giggling. Nevertheless, -it must be admitted that in permitting such an -innovation the Headmaster was merely animated -by that new spirit of philanthropy and altruism -which seems to have found a more useful form -of expression in the Eton Mission, now, according -to all accounts, doing excellent work in Hackney -Wick.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">INCREASE OF INTERFERENCE</div> - -<p>All things considered, Mr. Lyttelton has been -a more successful Headmaster than many old -Etonians expected, and has not made any violent -effort to interfere with the traditions of the school. -Life at Eton, however, without doubt is now more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -strenuous than of yore. Leave has been greatly -curtailed, having to be taken at an appointed time. -Besides this, of late a tendency seems to have -arisen to exercise more control over the boys in -minor matters, as to which in former days the -authorities never thought of interfering. From -time immemorial it has been the privilege of members -of “Pop” to sit on the low wall by the trees, -planted in 1753, especially on Sunday; a recent -regulation forbids any boy, whether belonging to -“Pop” or not, from sitting on the wall on Sunday. -The reason for such a vexatious interference with -an old Eton custom is difficult to divine. A more -reasonable exercise of influence by the Headmaster -has been his attempt to get the boys when in -Chapel to abstain from keeping their hands in -their pockets when standing up during the service. -Such a practice is not forbidden, but an address -on the subject by Mr. Lyttelton is said to have -produced a great effect.</p> - -<p>On the whole the masters of to-day would -appear to possess more influence with the boys -than was the case in the past. Now, as then, the -most popular are those who are gentlemen—that -is, using the word in its best and proper sense. -At the present time, owing to the increased -worship of athletics, proficiency at games is a -powerful factor in a master’s popularity, and -genial eccentricity is also apt to cause him to be -liked; but fads, on the other hand, are not attractive -to boys, which makes it all the more remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -that the present Headmaster—a professed vegetarian—should -have attained a fair measure of -success in presiding over the school. No doubt -his fine record as an athlete has had a good deal -to do with this.</p> - -<p>In the ’seventies of the last century the attitude -of Eton boys towards the “Beaks” (they are, I -understand, called Ushers now), whilst not actively -hostile, was for the most part one of tolerant -indifference. A few of the masters, however, were -on fairly intimate terms with certain of the Upper -boys, but the majority of the school knew and -cared little about those responsible for its education. -Respect for constituted authority has never -been a salient characteristic of Eton boys, and -amongst the junior members of the school at least -“drawing the beaks” was then considered quite -a legitimate form of amusement. A previous -generation, according to all accounts, found a never-failing -source of delight in lawless doings of this -sort, whilst even Sixth Form occasionally took -advantage of the good-nature of Dr. Hawtrey, -the most urbane Headmaster, it is said, who ever -wielded a birch.</p> - -<p>Like his subordinates, he seems to have -been not infrequently exposed to attempts at -“drawing” by his division. These, however, he -generally treated with good-humoured contempt. -During one eleven-o’clock school they once all -became suddenly absorbed in the contemplation -of the rose from which was suspended one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -the chandeliers of Upper School, and, nudging -one another, indulged in mysterious whispers, -which eventually caused Hawtrey to look up -and ask, “Why, whatever is the matter?” “First -of April, sir,” was the reply, but the Headmaster -remained unmoved, and merely murmuring, “Silly -boys,” bade one of them proceed with their construing.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“SOMEONE MUST BE LAST”</div> - -<p>Dr. Hawtrey did not believe in forcing learning -upon boys, and was never unduly severe with -laggards. “Somebody must be last,” was a -favourite consolatory remark of his when any -derisive titter at the last name in an examination -met his ears. During his tenure of the Headmastership -there was much ease and freedom, for -it was not in his nature to be a martinet.</p> - -<p>Full of good intentions and over-politeness to -the boys, it was no wonder that this pedagogue, a -veritable prince amongst schoolmasters, was very -popular in the school. Whatever a boy said he -professed, if possible, to believe, and although his -confidence was often misplaced, this course had -a salutary effect in fostering and cultivating -a gentlemanly spirit. At the same time his very -figure was a caution to evildoers, for he had a -droop in his right shoulder which was supposed -to have come from a frequent and vigorous use -of the birch. Among the Lower boys he was -generally called “Plug,” from some peculiarity in -his countenance, but the swells, by way of refinement, -reversed the name and used “Gulp” instead.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -The same kind of satirical humour led to their -ungallantly christening his two old sisters -“Elephantina” and “Rhinocerina.” These ladies -had a sedan-chair in which they went to parties—one -of the last sedan-chairs probably used. Dr. -Hawtrey had a great liking for velvet collars, fine -clothes, perfumes, and gold chains; one of the -school beliefs was that “Hawtrey stood up in -£700,” the stiff figure at which his boys assessed -his studs, sleeve-links, watch and chains, gold -pencil and rings.</p> - -<p>Boys are wonderfully astute judges of whether -a master will stand nonsense or not, and having -discovered that a man cannot keep order, are apt -to bring the art of ingenious torment to a high -pitch of perfection. Old Etonians will recall the -self-control and good-temper shown by certain -masters who had not the knack of making their -authority felt. Their divisions indulged in every -kind of disorder, such as breaking out into applause -at some casual comment, and at a prearranged -moment commencing to stamp and sometimes -even to sing. The keyholes of their class-rooms -were filled with small pebbles or india-rubber, -whilst various substances were put amongst the -papers upon their desk. The writer well remembers -the astonished look on the face of a certain master -when, crawling laboriously towards him upon his -desk, there appeared a poor ink-soaked tortoise, -which, to the intense delight of the division, had at -last accomplished the feat of climbing out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -ink-pot, where it had surreptitiously been deposited -just as school commenced.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“NASCITUR NON FIT”</div> - -<p>Another master, who was very short sighted, was -always having jokes played upon him just under -his nose. On one occasion it was declared he had -continued to dip his pen in the open mouth of a -particularly torpid toad, substituted for his inkpot, -till the reptile, irritated and aroused, jumped right -in the middle of his face. Yet other masters, -without being particularly severe, kept order -without any difficulty at all, the boys instinctively -realising that they would stand no nonsense. Of -the perfect schoolmaster, indeed, as of the perfect -poet, it may be said, “Nascitur non fit.”</p> - -<p>To those men who by nature and disposition -were unable to make their authority felt, school -hours must have often been a time of veritable -torment. Generally well-meaning men of -gentle nature, when they did punish they almost -invariably punished wrong or in an ineffectual -manner, their usual practice being either to set -some tremendous “poena,” which they afterwards -revoked, or settle upon the wrong boy, to whom -in the end they were obliged to accord something -very like an apology. In a few rare instances -the perfectly legitimate loss of temper by a master -led to very grave consequences. Goaded to fury -by a long course of deliberate insubordination, -some tortured tutor would at last turn upon a -pupil and box his ears. Physical chastisement by -a master in any form whatever was then strictly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -forbidden, the infliction of corporal punishment -being reserved for the Head and Lower Masters -alone. The boys were perfectly aware of this, -and instances occurred of grave consequences -attending a well-deserved blow. One master, I -believe, was more or less compelled to leave the -school because he had hit a particularly impertinent -boy with a book, and several instances of masters -receiving reprimands occurred from time to time. -By the irony of fate, the most unsuccessful -masters were sometimes the cleverest men, -who, however, had begun badly and obtained a -reputation which caused them to be tortured by -successive generations of boys. Of one of these -unfortunate pedagogues it was said that during -school hours the first rank of his division talked, -the second whistled, and the third sang.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">AN UNFORTUNATE MASTER</div> - -<p>One of the most ludicrous jokes ever perpetrated -upon any Eton master was played some ten years -ago. At that time several new masters, not all -of whom were Etonians, had been appointed, more -or less, I believe, upon probation. One of these, -who taught modern languages, though a clever -man, was of too confiding and gentle a disposition -to cope with the boys, and during school hours a -scene of great disorder became the almost invariable -rule. Paper darts flew all over the class-room, -and every kind of queer noise was heard, though -the poor man was always unable to bring the -offenders to book. Finally, on the 5th of November -a regular pandemonium prevailed, fireworks being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -exploded in all directions, even under his very -nose, with the result that he was driven into a -state of rage merging upon despair and determined -to adopt stringent measures. On the next -occasion, however, when the same set of boys came -to take their lesson in the language of Molière, -what was his surprise to observe that, contrary to -all his former Eton experiences, the greatest decorum -prevailed, his remarks and comments being -listened to in respectful silence, whilst occasionally -subdued murmurs of admiration greeted the expounding -of some difficult sentence. At the end -of that school it had been his intention to address -a few words to the boys referring to the scandalous -scene of the previous week, but in face of their -changed attitude he felt that it would be churlish -to show any undue severity, and merely spoke in -a tone of surprised regret, adding that he was much -pleased to observe such improved behaviour. Upon -this a boy, who on previous occasions had been one -of the worst offenders, stepping forward, enquired, -“Sir, may I say a few words?” Permission -being accorded, the youth made a stately little -speech, in which he said that any outbursts of -indiscipline were deeply deplored by the whole -division, for whom he had been deputed to speak. -“They were merely,” added he, “playful ebullitions—proofs, -he might add, of the great popularity -of a master whom they all respected and -loved. The fact was, his friends had been carried -away by enthusiasm, which in future would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -kept within due bounds, and now he hoped the -whole incident might be forgiven and forgotten. -Meanwhile he had been requested to crave a -favour, the granting of which he felt sure no one -acquainted with Eton tradition would care to -refuse. It was,” he continued, “an ancient custom -of the school, when a master attained to an unusual -degree of popularity, for his division to be allowed -the honour of hoisting him, and that honour he -and his friends now sought from their beloved -pedagogue.” The master, though rather surprised, -felt very much flattered and pleased at having, as -he said in a neat little speech of reply, so quickly -gained the confidence and love of his young friends, -and at the end of school was carried round the new -schools, finally being deposited upon the cannon -which all Etonians know so well. As his delighted -boys went off to their houses they gave him a final -cheer, which filled him with joy. On his way -home he met one of the older masters and told -him of the demonstration, adding, “Oh, I do so -adore your quaint customs!” The astounded old -Etonian held his peace, but at the end of that half -the newcomer had to betake himself elsewhere, -it being clear that the Eton boys were too much -for him.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ESCAPADES</div> - -<p>The old lawless spirit which had prompted so -many poaching expeditions and illicit rambles in -the eighteenth century still lingered in the writer’s -day, when six or seven boys established a regular -club, where they could smoke and play nap, in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -room over a Windsor toy-shop. One of the chief -organisers—now a Peer who has filled several -important public appointments—always took care -to provide a rope-ladder by which the party might -escape in the event of a raid. Some of the -Windsor billiard-rooms were also occasionally -frequented by a few older boys, some of whom -had a regular arrangement which ensured them the -exclusive use of the table on certain days of the -week. As far as the present writer’s experience -went, no serious harm resulted from these sternly -prohibited escapades. Nevertheless, afternoons -passed in the consumption of much tobacco and -some alcohol did no good to health. The authorities, -whenever any rumour of such breaches of the -school discipline reached their ears, did everything -in their power to set matters right. The wonder -was, considering how alert were some of the -masters, that more of the culprits were not caught. -The writer remembers three—one of whom was -his friend Mr. Douglas Ainslie, now a well-known -poet and critic—who had a very narrow escape -indeed. On such afternoons as they indulged -in surreptitious visits to a certain hostelry, these -boys used to get into their house after Lock-Up -through the room of a small fag, who received -careful instructions to look out for their return -behind the drawn blind of his window, by which -access could be contrived from the street. The -signal agreed upon was a pebble thrown gently -at the glass. For a time this arrangement worked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -well enough, but one winter’s evening the party, -on reaching their house, were dismayed at obtaining -no response. One of them—in after life -a gallant officer of Highlanders who fell fighting -at the head of his men in South Africa—by -climbing up and breaking a pane of glass, managed -to effect an entrance; his companions followed, -and what was their surprise on relighting the -light, which had fallen over in the scuffle, to -find, cowering in the corner of the room, a -beautiful little girl, who was fairly frightened -to death! When at last reassured, this child -explained that she was the sister of the owner of -the room, who had gone out to borrow some -tea-things from a friend. Needless to say, under -such circumstances, the Lower boy got no hiding -for his delinquency.</p> - -<p>In addition to his traditional duties, a master, -it seems, now has to mark in the boys in his -class-room. Formerly this was done by a praepostor, -one being attached to every division. -His office dated from the foundation of the -school, when he appears to have possessed -considerable authority, being indeed a sort of -monitor. In modern times, however, praepostors -merely had to mark in all the boys in the -division to which they were attached under three -heads, “Leave,” “Staying out,” and “ab horâ” or -“Late.” After every school all the praepostors -assembled in the colonnade and handed in their -bills to the Headmaster. As a rule the office of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -praepostor, undertaken by every boy in turn, was -popular, for such an official escaped most of the -school hours, was never put on to construe, and -passed a good deal of his time chatting to boys -reported sick, whom he had to go and see. Some -boys disliked it, however, and by arrangement -passed the praepostor’s book on. The whole -institution was a curious survival of a past age. -Well does the present writer remember standing -as praepostor by the side of Dr. Hornby calling -Absence in the school-yard and thinking that the -ancient office would not last very much longer. -Within recent years his forebodings have been -justified, for at present but one praepostor (of the -Headmaster’s division) exists, the work of marking -in being undertaken by masters in school and the -boys at the end of the benches in Chapel.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">ROOMS</div> - -<p>Thirty or forty years ago life in an Eton house -remained much as it had been in the eighteenth -century, the boys, provided they did their work, -being left pretty much to themselves, though -some housemasters interfered to prevent boisterous -sports, such as football in the passages. The -rooms, though often very small, were, it must be -said, not uncomfortable, and quite a number of -boys prided themselves upon their taste in decoration. -Some even had pianos in their rooms, a -privilege which was highly valued and seldom -abused. The furniture of the rooms generally -varied but little. For the most part it consisted -of a shut-up bed, a “burry” (bureau) washstand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -which also closed up, and sock cupboard. In this -the owner kept his tea-things and such delicacies -as he could afford. A favourite form of decoration -was a mantel-board covered, according to Victorian -taste, with stamped plush and brass-headed nails. -In the summer term there was some competition -in the matter of fire-ornaments and flower-boxes. -The former were generally appalling in their -vulgarity, their main feature being a profusion -of extremely garish ornament, mostly tinsel and -sham gold. Almost every boy had a few pictures, -generally of a sporting kind, even though he himself -had never taken part in sport. The Eton -print shops must have done a fine trade in oleographs -and poorly reproduced representations of -famous runs and steeplechases. Some few brought -comparatively good pictures with them from home. -The writer remembers a set of Eton prints in a -boy’s room which at the present day it would be -extremely difficult to procure at all. The books -were, of course, mostly connected with work, a -crib or two being generally hidden away in case -of a raid. On the whole an Eton boy was -extremely comfortable, for he could have pretty -well anything he or his parents could afford to -pay for, while there was scarcely one who did not -boast an arm-chair.</p> - -<p>On the whole, the long-suffering boys’ maids, -as they were called, did their work very well. As -a rule, it should be added, they were middle-aged -women, not remarkable for beauty. One housemaster,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -indeed—Mr. Walter Durnford, formerly -a popular figure at Eton, and now Vice-Provost -of King’s—according to current report, used, with -perfect justice, to pride himself upon the extreme -ugliness of his maids. Be this as it may, the boys -of his house, which was next to the writer’s, were -often to be seen peering through their windows -in order to catch a glimpse of one of our maids, of -whose good looks we were quite justly proud.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">FAGGING</div> - -<p>Fagging, though probably more arduous than -to-day, entailed little hardships on the smaller boys. -Thirty years ago a fag’s duties consisted in laying -his fagmaster’s breakfast, procuring chops, steaks, -kidneys, or sausages from a sock shop, making -toast, and poaching eggs. He had to attend at -tea-time again, but then as a rule was not called -upon to do anything in particular, his appearance -at that hour being more or less a matter of form. -Besides this, a fag had to carry notes and render -other similar services when required to do so, while -obliged to answer to the call of “Lower boy” -shouted by any one in Upper Division. It should -be added that the qualification as to place in the -school entitling boys to fag has gradually been -heightened. Formerly the whole of the Fifth -Form could fag; but about three decades ago that -privilege was withdrawn from the Lower Division, -and I believe the number of fagmasters has been -further lessened since then. This was not on -account of the privilege of fagging having been -abused, but merely because the number of Upper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -boys had grown too large in proportion with those -of the Lower. With the institution of breakfasts -provided by housemasters and eaten by the boys -all together, fagging has shrunk to a mere nothing. -The most irksome part formerly was being obliged -to answer the call of “Lower boy,” when every -one “fagable” was obliged to rush at headlong -speed to the caller, the last to arrive being the -one who had to perform the particular service -required. In College, I believe, “Here” was called -instead of “Lower boy.” Also, at one time, it -would appear that any boy able to call out “Finge” -before the rest could claim exemption from taking -notice of the call. I must, however, add that I -never heard anything about this when I was at -Eton. Another College shout was “Cloister P!” -on hearing which the lowest boy within call had to -fetch a canful of excellent drinking water from the -famous old pump in the Cloisters, at the spout of -which, in a rougher age, many generations of -Collegers had performed their ablutions. Owing -to the dearth of Lower boys in College for a long -time past, it has been the custom that every newcomer, -irrespective of his place in the school, should -fag for a year.</p> - -<p>In the distant past cricket fagging existed, and -must have pressed very heavily upon small boys, -who were liable to be waylaid by Fifth Form -boys coming out of school. Cricket fagging then -included bowling, and was an irksome infliction -which was just as well done away with. Another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -disagreeable form of fagging which has now long -been extinct was crib fagging, which consisted in a -small boy being obliged to read out a crib to an -assemblage of big ones. As a rule, on these occasions -another fag would be posted in the passage -outside in order to give time for the crib to be -secreted should there be any chance of the tutor -making his unwelcome appearance. Towing boats -up to Surly was the most severe form of fagging. -This was abolished by Keate some eighty years ago.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">NO BULLYING</div> - -<p>It is much to the credit of the Eton system -that amongst the Oppidans (the state of affairs in -old Long Chamber was different) there seems -never to have existed any bullying. During the -investigations of the Commission in 1861 all the -evidence tended to show that small boys underwent -no ill-treatment or persecution whatever. In -the writer’s opinion this in a great measure -accounts for the independent and buoyant spirit -which has ever been a characteristic of Etonians -in after life. Many sensitive boys educated at -schools where bullying has prevailed have felt the -results of it in a tamed and often broken spirit.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">“ORDERS”</div> - -<p>One of the peculiarities of Eton in old days was -that unless a boy supplemented his dietary by the -purchase of provisions from the shops in the town -he would often have to go hungry, and even thirty -years ago in most of the houses the old Eton -traditions as regards feeding were in full force. -All the boys received was a loaf, pat of butter, -and pot of tea for breakfast. Luncheon they all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -had together with their dame in the large dining-room; -this was a fairly substantial meal. Tea -taken in their own rooms exactly resembled breakfast, -besides which there was a very light supper -in the dining-room, at which attendance was -optional. Almost without exception, of course, this -somewhat meagre fare was supplemented by the -boys themselves, who purchased appetising dishes -from the sock shops at a reasonable price. An -Eton custom at that day, which probably still -exists, was for the boys to have what were called -“orders” at one of these shops. This “order” -consisted in an agreement with a shopkeeper to -supply a boy with provisions to a certain amount -every day, the boy’s father or mother having previously -paid a sum in advance. The arrangement -was, of course, intended to prevent the boy from -finding himself bereft of all luxuries after the -pocket-money given him when he left home had -been exhausted; but, as a matter of fact, in the case -of the more extravagant boys it almost invariably -missed its mark, for, getting round the shopkeeper, -they would persuade him to allow the anticipation -of their “order,” with the result that whilst during -the first fortnight of the half they revelled in every -sort of delicacy, their breakfasts and teas during -the remainder of the school time were unenlivened -by any toothsome dishes. The most popular sock -shops were then Harry Webber’s (now Rowland’s) -and “little Brown’s,” the door of which the -writer, on a recent visit to Eton, found shut.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> - -<p>The system of “orders” extended to other -things besides sock shops, a dame or housemaster -having the power of giving them for clothes or any -other necessary. A boy applying for one of these -signed permits was supposed to be able to prove -that he was really in want of the article he wished -to procure, and, the order being handed to him, was -recognised by a tradesman as a valid voucher that -the sum for which it stood would be included in -the boy’s bill at the end of the half. On the whole -this arrangement worked well, but occasionally -unscrupulous boys, by arrangement with some not -over particular tradesman, would obtain some other -article which was really anything but a necessary.</p> - -<p>Dames were sometimes easy about granting -“orders,” and not a few boys prided themselves -upon their adroitness in obtaining anything they -liked, and some of them managed to run up -comparatively large accounts with their housemaster’s -or dame’s permission. An even more -extravagant and reckless kind of boy would contrive -to persuade some tradesman (generally a -London one who knew something about the -circumstances of his parents) to allow him to run -up bills without any “order” at all, the understanding -being that these should be paid when the boy -had left school or came of age. One such case the -writer well remembers, the perpetrator being a -very dissipated youth celebrated throughout the -school for always being in trouble with the authorities. -This boy was a great dandy as regards dress,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -and it was currently reported that he never wore -the same pair of trousers twice. This, of course, -was an exaggeration, but he certainly had a -wonderful stock of clothes. On leaving Eton he -had accumulated debts to a considerable figure, and -his after career was anything but a success, for after -attempting various forms of occupation, including -amateur newspaper reporting, he was last heard -of keeping a little store in South Africa. An -account of the curious professions adopted by -Eton boys would fill a volume. On the whole, -however, the majority do well, as, after all, is -only to be expected, considering that in the first -instance their parents must have been possessed of -considerable funds in order to send them to Eton -at all.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">IMPISH MISCHIEF</div> - -<p>Some tutors, unable to keep order in their -houses, were the victims of all sorts of unpleasant -jokes. One of the most mischievous and dangerous -of these was to stretch a string across a passage and -then set to work to create such a noise as would be -sure to attract the tutor’s attention, with the result -that when he arrived upon the scene he would be -tripped up. Another diversion of a somewhat -similar sort was to pile a number of iron coal-scuttles -just at the top of a flight of stairs, and, -after creating a great din, kick them down upon -the ascending tutor, who would seldom be able to -discover the organiser of the outrage. A more -amusing trick was the following. A small Lower -boy, having, with his own consent, been tied up in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -one of the huge dirty linen bags, was placed in the -middle of a passage and told to keep perfectly -motionless till he felt a slight kick, when he was to -rise at his assailant and hold on to his legs, calling -out the name of some big boy well known to all. -This being done, all the occupants of the passage -would set to work to make sufficient noise to produce -their tutor’s appearance, upon which complete -silence would prevail. Nine times out of ten the -tutor, walking down the passage to ascertain the -reason of the disturbance, seeing the dirty linen -bag, would try and kick it on one side, with the -result that, rising at him, it would clutch him by -the leg and cause him to execute a multitude of -undignified gyrations, to the delight of boys peeping -through doors just ajar. When, finally, the -small boy had been extricated from the bag, it was -very difficult to punish him, for he would invariably -plead that he had been tied up against his will, and -in pinching his assailant’s legs had been merely -acting in self-defence against some one whom he had -good reason to suspect was a persecuting schoolfellow.</p> - -<p>Throwing bits of coal out of the window at -passers-by or shooting with a catapult used to be -favourite pastimes with boys of a past age. Fierce -battles were sometimes waged in the winter evenings -between the boys in adjacent houses, when they -would bombard each other with pea-shooters or -squirts charged with ink or water. Occasionally -this warfare involved onlookers in the street below.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -The writer remembers a great disturbance caused -by an angry policeman whose helmet and uniform -had been liberally bespattered with ink.</p> - -<p>Some of the houses contained broad and lengthy -passages, on each side of which were ranged boys’ -rooms, a favourite amusement for the occupants of -which was standing by the open doors and awaiting -the cry of “Slough; change here for Staines, -Windsor, Datchet,” when every boy would slam -his door in turn down the passage with a view to -produce the effect of a train about to start. -Immediately after the completion of this manœuvre -the boys would at once fly to their “burries” -(bureaus), at which they would be found hard at -work when the infuriated tutor or housemaster -arrived to discover the cause of the disturbance. -In some cases the unfortunate man would ignore -the first performance of this ingenious form of -torture, but a second and louder slamming seldom -failed to bring him in hot haste from his private -quarters. To punish for this kind of thing was -exceedingly difficult, for the boys were, of course, -at liberty to shut their doors, and collusion was not -easy to prove.</p> - -<p>A number of boys spent their time experimenting -with electricity and chemicals, and the writer -well remembers a friend having his face severely -injured by the explosion of some dangerous -compound mixed together in a flower-box. On -another occasion the same boy (now a well-known -sporting peer) occasioned a serious panic.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -Having inserted some detonating composition -amongst the bricks of the railway arches over -which trains run into Windsor, he contrived to -make it explode just before the Royal train bearing -Queen Victoria passed. It was a time when -Ireland was in a very disturbed state, and there -was much dread of some outrage. Consequently -the Windsor and Eton police were convinced that -the explosion had a political origin, and every -effort was made by means of detectives to find the -perpetrator. It was, however, never discovered -that he was an Eton boy.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">HOAXING THE PRESS</div> - -<p>About thirty years ago, Eton boys were seized -with a craze for hoaxing the London Press, and -some extraordinary letters appeared in various -papers. The most extraordinary of all was one -bearing the signature of an Eton master which -described the writer’s remarkable experiences in -the country, where he had witnessed a conflict -between a cow and a partridge, in which the cow, -after a prolonged chase, had eventually captured -and devoured the bird. The master eventually -wrote an indignant denial, but he was never able -to discover who had taken his name in vain.</p> - -<p>The greatest practical joke ever played at Eton -was the colossal hoax perpetrated in the early -eighties of the last century upon the somewhat -ingenuous editor of a newly-started London magazine, -who had been struck with the idea of increasing -its attractions by publishing authentic news of -public-school life. Not unnaturally he began with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -Eton, and, setting to work to secure contributors -at that school, obtained some really astounding -information, which afterwards went to the making -of an extremely scarce little book called <cite>Eton -as She is not</cite>. More recently an amusing account -of the whole affair appeared in the <cite>Cornhill -Magazine</cite> at the end of an excellent article on -“College at Eton.” At first the editor’s correspondents -merely furnished him with accounts of -local events, all of them pure invention; but, -emboldened by success, they soon went on to -describe some interesting old customs. The first -was chronicled thus:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>A curious custom takes place here on certain days in -College Dining Hall, called “Passing the Green Stuff.” The -second fellow at the big fellows’ table suddenly says, “Pass -me that Green Stuff,” referring to a dish of mint placed on -the table; then the fellow opposite him stands up, and says -“Surgite” (arise), on which all the other fellows get up from -their places and run the fellow who “broached” (<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">i.e.</i> asked -for) the green stuff round the School Paddocks, shouting out -such military commands as “Quick march! Right turn!” -etc. They then return to dinner, when a “grace-cup” is -partaken by all except him who “broached” the green stuff.</p></blockquote> - -<div class="sidenote">“SLUNCHING” THE PADDOCKS</div> - -<p>In the next number readers were informed that -at Eton Prisoner’s Base is a great success, and the -Paddock is almost always deserted for the Cloisters. -The following then appeared:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>Another curious custom at Eton is “Slunching the -Paddocks.” On a certain day all the Collegians and -Oppidans are provided with a coarse sort of pudding, which -is put to the following use. After dinner is over they all go -to Weston’s and School Paddocks and throw their pudding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> -all over them. This is “Slunching the Paddocks,” the -pudding being called “Slunch.” It is supposed to be derived -from the fact that when Queen Elizabeth visited Eton -College “she lunched” (s’lunched) in College Hall, and the -students sprinkled the paddocks with dry rice in her honour.</p></blockquote> - -<p>In the number published on March 5, 1884, a -purely imaginary list of the officials of the various -school departments was given. There were the -Captains of the “Broach” and the “Slunch,” the -two College boats; the Captain of Cricket Tassels, -R. J. Lucas;<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Captain of Fives Tassels, Havager -Boroughdale; Captain of the Musical Department, -R. A. S. Berry-Young; Captain of the Curling -Club, T. T. Vator; Captain of the Spelican Team, -Tute Goodhart; Captain of Ushers, J. Goodwin; -Steward of the Paddocks, H. Beecham Wolley; -Choragus, C. Wofflington. This was followed in -the next number by the news that the Spelican -team had played their first match of the season -on March 11 against the Dorney Dubes. The -Collegian Brigade, an admirable corps, which -marched out as far as Brocas Hedges, was later on -described as having met with a catastrophe, for “a -bull loose in Weston’s Paddock, which they passed -through on the way, attacked the line, and a boy -named Swage was knocked over and slightly -bruised.”</p> - -<p>This went on for six months, when the Editor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> -wrote and expressed a desire to come down to Eton -and see the place for himself. He was duly shown -a hockey match between B. Wolley’s “Field -Mice” and Flenderbatch’s “Jolly Boys,” the match -being played with tassels on the caps and all, which -so impressed him that he returned to London and -wrote an account of what he had seen, giving at -the same time a new and original version of the -School Song, addressed to “Pulcra Etona” and -praying among other things that:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Slunna fluat, -</div><div class="indentbase">Semper ruat -</div><div class="indent15">Capti fundamentum. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>“Slunna” is slunch, “capti fundamentum” is -sound Latin for prisoner’s base. In high good -temper he added that “our Eton correspondence is -supplied by a gentleman who is a universal favourite -in College, and the Editor is pleased to state that -he has received letters from Etonians all over the -world, signifying their approval of his reports.” -He was disillusioned soon after, and no more space -was devoted to Eton and the strange doings of its -students.</p> - -<p>Though at that time something of the old-world -spirit still lingered, there survived few of the quaint -“characters” who had once been fairly numerous at -Eton. The ever-gentle, suave, and urbane Giles of -Williams’ (afterwards Ingalton Drake’s, and now -Spottiswoode’s) will, however, be remembered by -many. How this good-natured man managed to -book the orders at the beginning of a school-time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -and keep his temper is a mystery which will never -be solved. He had, I remember, a red-headed -assistant, who, though a shade more inclined to -frivolity than Giles (who was scholastic gravity -itself), seemed to have been born to serve out broad -rule and derivation paper without being ever in the -least perturbed by the chatter of crowds of Lower -boys.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">SOLOMON</div> - -<p>Another grave-looking character of this period -was Solomon, who all day long stood in a minute -room at the back of Brown’s, the hosier, ironing -hats. Solomon’s appearance and demeanour did -not accord ill with his appellation. He was a -white-headed old man who always wore a paper -cap somewhat resembling the traditional head-dress -of a French cook. Standing in his shirt-sleeves -gently working his iron over the nap of ill-used -“toppers,” his favourite topic was the Turf, of which -surely no more ardent votary ever lived. All day -long he would discuss with the various boys who -streamed into his little workroom the chances -of the horses entered for the next classic race. -Solomon was essentially an old-fashioned turfite -in his ideas, and knew nothing of starting-price -jobs or other new-fangled manœuvres. He was, -however, acquainted with the form of all the more -prominent race-horses, and in his conversation laid -gentle stress upon the value of a judgment which -no one wished to dispute. In spite of the old -man’s ardent affection for racing, I cannot help -thinking that during his long life he had seldom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> -seen any races run. On this subject, however, it -was best to hold one’s peace. Though Solomon’s -sanctum was the scene of such eternal confabulations -as to the great question of first, second, and -third, I cannot remember that much betting arose -from it. As far as my memory serves me, the -majority of Solomon’s visitors remained purely -academic in their patronage of racing. Perhaps -this was owing to the fact that the Lower boys, -of whom his ever-changing audience was for the -most part composed, had very little money, and -preferred to spend what they had in substantial -dainties rather than risk it in speculations of a -visionary kind. I do not recollect Solomon doing -any serious betting for boys, but have a vague idea -he occasionally put shillings on. I was therefore -surprised when told some years ago that the old -man had been driven out of his place owing to the -action of the College authorities, who objected to -him as demoralising the boys by assisting them to -bet. I can only hope that this report was untrue, -for in my day, at least, his influence was quite -harmless.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">BETTING</div> - -<p>In the sixties, I believe, there used to be a -school Derby lottery every year, the winner of -which generally got about £25. The arrangements -for this seem to have been placed in the -hands of a well-known character about the “wall” -named “Snip,” but he had died or disappeared -long before my day, and the only lottery I remember -was a tiny private affair, the tickets of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> -which cost sixpence or a shilling. In connection -with this subject it is said that of late -years betting amongst the boys has become a -serious evil. If this is the case, the school must -have undergone a considerable change in its -ideas within the last quarter of a century. In -the late seventies and early eighties there was -practically no betting at all amongst the boys, -chiefly for the reason just given, but also because -there existed a widespread idea that any attempt -at speculation would eventually lead to loss of -money. A good many boys, no doubt, who had a -love for the Turf looked forward to gratifying -a taste for speculation in time to come, whilst -others told extravagant tales of Turf triumphs -during the holidays, but few took racing seriously, -their interest being limited to flocking to the -post-office to hear the first news as to the winner -of any great race. A salient proof that at that -date no real betting existed was the sensation -caused amongst us by the rumour, based on truth, -that a new boy (the son of the Maharajah Duleep -Singh, whose arrival at Eton created some sensation), -on being spoken to by a member of the eight -in the school-yard, had offered to bet him a fiver -against a certain horse, which wager had been -accepted. This was the largest wager we ever -heard of as being made at Eton, and it was -looked upon as extraordinary.</p> - -<p>On the other side of the High Street, opposite -to the establishment where Solomon ironed hats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -and gave forth his wisdom, a younger rival also -doctored battered “toppers.” As far as I can -remember, he was a far rougher individual than -the racing sage, and possessed a tendency towards -familiarity which was not universally popular. -He and Solomon both resembled each other in -one respect, which was their taste for plastering -every available inch of their walls with cuts -and paragraphs from cheap papers of a comic -order.</p> - -<p>A curious character amongst the sock shopkeepers -of that period was an old Italian confectioner, -who owned rather a spacious shop with -very little in it up the High Street, on the right-hand -side going from Eton towards Windsor -Bridge. This worthy, who was always attired -in a cook’s dress—white cap, apron, and all—made -and sold most excellent ices, which procured -him a fair amount of custom from the Eton boys -in spite of the fact that his shop was considered -rather “scuggish.” According to common report, -the proprietor had once been employed at Windsor -Castle, where his skill as an ice-maker had won the -favour of Queen Victoria, with whom for a time -he had become a particular favourite. One day, -however, the Queen had caught him administering -a thundering thrashing to his wife, in consequence -of which she had very rightly at once turned him -out of his post. This story, though resting upon -no credible evidence, was generally believed by -Lower boys, and some of them made a practice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> -of infuriating the old man by hurling taunts at -him as they were going out of his shop. “What -a pity, ‘Cally,’ you got kicked out of the Queen’s -kitchen!” they would call out, and the little Italian -never failed to fly into a great rage at their chaff. -Indeed, on more than one occasion he was said to -have pursued boys into the street with a knife in -his hand, but this in all probability was mere -exaggeration. Nevertheless he had a violent -temper, and for this reason was constantly being -drawn by mischievous boys.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A POPULAR INSTITUTION</div> - -<p>A more improving occupation than chaffing -tradesmen was reading books and papers at -Ingalton Drake’s, the bookseller, who afterwards -took over Williams’, where all the school books -were sold. This establishment, owing to the good -nature of the proprietor, was constantly thronged -with a crowd of boys, who, seldom making any -purchase, spent a good deal of time turning over -the leaves of new books just fresh from London. -The <cite>Times</cite> could also be read there. As a matter -of fact, the boys were very careful not to hurt or -dirty the books they took up or touched, and I do -not think the owner of the establishment had -reason to regret his kindliness, which was the -means of many Etonians acquiring an insight into -branches of knowledge which the school curriculum -made no attempt to include. Many a pleasant and -not uninstructive half-hour was passed here by -boys to whom cut-and-dried lessons made no -appeal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">HOISTING</div> - -<p>The Eton traditions of three decades ago were -not very many in number, most of them being -concerned with minor points of dress, things which -were to be done and were not to be done, and the -like. Except hoisting, few old usages survived, -though, no doubt, the opinions of many long-past -generations still influenced the boys in their -unwritten code of what was “scuggish” and what -was not. Hoisting, I believe, still survives, though -a very few years ago undue exuberance on the -part of the boys nearly caused its abolition. At -that time (1904-1905) the whole school would -assemble along the wall on the evening of the -School Pulling, which always takes place after -Lord’s, and await the arrival of the members of -“Pop,” who from Tap would walk arm-in-arm -across the whole street to opposite their Club Room -in the building of the old Christopher. They would -then seize the winners of the School Pulling, and, -according to traditional custom, run up and down -along the wall with them, the whole school shouting -at the top of their voices. If the eleven had won -at Lord’s, or the eight at Henley, its members -were also hoisted one by one. In the case of the -School Pulling, the winners, after being hoisted, -were taken to some prominent upper window in -one of the houses which all could see, and water -solemnly poured over their heads, the jugs and -crockery being eventually thrown out into the -street. This latter generally occurred just before -Lock-up, all the boys being still out in the street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -The end was that “Pop” canes were produced, -arms linked, and everybody systematically driven -into his tutor’s house. The ceremony of hoisting -was not very popular with the public, for, in consequence -of the noise, passing carts and carriages -generally went by a good deal quicker than the -drivers wished, and horses became alarmed, whilst -no bicyclist was allowed to remain on his bicycle, -every one who passed being booed or cheered. -Thirty years ago the ceremony proceeded much -in the same way, though there was more consideration -shown to the drivers of horses which looked -likely to become alarmed by noise; also the -crockery-smashing ceremonial did not exist, and -would have been resented had any attempt been -made to institute it.</p> - -<p>Like another custom of modern origin, “Lock-up -Parade,” this very undesirable addition to hoisting -has now been forbidden. Lock-up Parade, which -did not exist in the writer’s Eton days, took place -in the Summer Half, just before the hour of Lock-up, -when the boys walked backwards and forwards -within very narrow limits to the strains of musicians -stationed outside “Tap.”</p> - -<div id="Fig_328" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_p328.jpg" width="600" height="393" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><p class="center">Eton College from the River.<br /> -<em>From an old coloured print.</em></p></div> -</div> - -<p>Tap is, if possible, more flourishing than ever, -being, as of old, crowded on summer evenings. At -such a time whilst the wet bobs on their way home -from the Brocas fill it to overflowing, a number of -swagger dry bobs also put in an appearance. In -addition to the traditional refreshments procurable -at Tap, chops, steaks, bread and cheese, beer and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> -cider, coffee, chocolate, cakes, fruit, and other good -things of the same kind may now be got there, -with the result that it is also much frequented -after twelve, though, of course, not by Lower -boys, who are still excluded as of old. A modern -Eton fashion is the giving of a breakfast under a -tent in the garden of Tap during the summer -term. This is a very “swagger” affair, most -of “Pop” putting in an appearance. A few years -ago, when some of the members of the Eton -Society were more than usually vivacious in disposition, -the return from Tap in the evening just -before Lock-up was occasionally very noisy, top-hats -flying about in all directions, and passers-by finding -it difficult to proceed on their way without -being playfully held up. At present, however, the -summer evenings are once again peaceful as of -yore—a happy state of affairs which should delight -every true lover of Eton, for it is beneath the -rays of a setting sun that the tranquil charm of -the old red-brick walls and weather-beaten -buildings makes itself especially felt. <span class="sni"><span class="hidev">|</span>SWINBURNE’S LINES<span class="hidev">|</span></span> At this -time of year is it, more than any other, that -the crowning glory of the place—the playing -fields fringed by the silver winding Thames—present -such a superb scene of placid beauty, -whilst College close by whispers from its towers -“the last enchantment of the Middle Age.” No -wonder that, in spite of altered ways and habits, -the spirit fostered by such stately surroundings -still remains alive—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indentbase">Still the reaches of the river, still the light on field and hill, -</div><div class="indentbase">Still the memories held aloft as lamps for hope’s young fire to fill, -</div><div class="indentbase">Shine, and while the light of England lives shall shine for England still. -</div></div></div></div> - -<p>It is to be hoped that these lines, written by -the last great Etonian poet to celebrate the 450th -anniversary of the foundation, will be as applicable -to the school five hundred years hence as they -are to-day. May those yet to come continue -to bear the torch of Eton, handed down from -distant generations, bravely aloft, whilst never -ceasing to keep before their eyes the duty of -delivering it to their successors, its flame bright -and brilliant as of old.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>INDEX</h2> - -<div> - -<ul class="index"><li class="ifrst">Abingdon, Lord, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Absence, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Adventurer</cite>, the, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Agar’s Plough, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ainger, the Rev. A. C., <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ainslie, Mr. Douglas, viii, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Albert, Prince, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Alford, Lord, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Allen, Anthony, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Allestree, Provost, <a href="#Page_14">14</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Angelo, Miss, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ante-Chapel, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Army class, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Athletics, modern admiration for, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Atholl, Duke of, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Austen Leigh, Mr. R. A., <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Austen Leigh, William, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">“Bacchus verses,” <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Badge-giving, <a href="#Page_38">38-40</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balston, Dr., <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290-292</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Barnard, Dr., <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Barnes Pool Bridge, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bayley, Emilius, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beagles, the, <a href="#Page_283">283-285</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Beaks,” <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bear, Johnny, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Benson, Mr. A. C., <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Benthall, E. C., K.S. (Keeper of the Wall, 1911), <a href="#Page_266">266</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bethell, Mr., <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Betting, <a href="#Page_323">323</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Bever,” <a href="#Page_166">166</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bircham, Mr. F. T., <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Bishop,” <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blake-Humfrey, Mr. R. H., <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blandford, Lord, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bligh, the Hon. Arthur, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Block, the, anecdotes concerning, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blomfield, Sir Arthur, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Boating song, the Eton, its history, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bogle Smith, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Boland, Billy, <a href="#Page_274">274</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bott, College constable, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Boudier, G. J., <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bourchier, Mr. Arthur, organises theatricals at Eton, anecdotes, <a href="#Page_219">219-221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brinsley Richards, Mr., <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brocas, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brown, Tom, Eton tailor, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brown’s, little, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Browning, Mr. Oscar, <a href="#Page_291">291</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brownlow North, Mr., <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Brozier,” <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bryant, Jacob, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bryant or Brion (sock cad), <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bulkeley-Johnson, Mr. Vivian, viii</li> - -<li class="indx">Bullying, anecdote of, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Burry,” <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Butler, Dr., <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Byron, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - -</ul> - -</div> - -<ul class="index"><li class="ifrst">“Cally,” <a href="#Page_325">325</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Campbell, Lord Archibald, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Captain of the boats, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carnegie, Mr. Andrew, his opinions concerning Greek, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carrington, Lady, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carter, the Rev. W. A., <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carter’s Chamber, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carvings, elaborate, upon old organ case of Eton Chapel, <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Castle (inn), <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Champeau, French swimming instructor, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chapel, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">its architectural history, <a href="#Page_173">173-175</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">so-called restoration, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></li> -<li class="isub1">old woodwork and organ loft, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">new stalls, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">present condition, <a href="#Page_184">184-186</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chapel sock, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Check nights,” <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chitty, Right Hon. Lord Justice, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Christopher, the, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">anecdotes concerning, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Christopher yard, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Churton, Henry Norris, declines scholarship at King’s, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cloister Pump, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cloisters, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cobbold, Felix Thornley, last Eton scholar under old statutes, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> - -<li class="indx">College buildings, account of alterations and restorations in, <a href="#Page_156">156-191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">College, horse-play in, <a href="#Page_208">208-210</a></li> - -<li class="indx">College in past days, <a href="#Page_196">196-218</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Collegers, their food in old days, <a href="#Page_203">203-205</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Collet, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Colours,” <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Colours of “boats” at present day, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Costume, old Eton, <a href="#Page_34">34-36</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Coventry, Lord, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cradock, Zachary, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Craven, Lord, <a href="#Page_40">40</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Creasy (the historian), <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Creasy, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Culliford, James (chief butler), <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his son, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cumberland, Duke of, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Curfew tower, vulgarisation of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Curraghmore, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Curzon, Lord, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cust, family of, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Dalmeny, Lord, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dalton, the Rev. T., favourable to theatricals, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Daniel (captain of Harrow eleven), <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Deadman’s Hole,” <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Deeson, architect and “restorer” of Chapel, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li class="indx">De Foix, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li> - -<li class="indx">De Quincey, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Douro, Lord, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Drury’s, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Duleep Singh, the Maharajah, <a href="#Page_323">323</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dupuis, the Rev. G., a Vice-Provost, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Durnford, the Rev. F. E. (Judy), <a href="#Page_286">286</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Durnford, Richard, first Eton scholar to go to King’s under new statutes, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Durnford, Mr. Walter, <a href="#Page_309">309</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">East window, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Educational system at Eton, reflections upon, <a href="#Page_227">227-242</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Election Chamber, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Election Saturday, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222-224</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Elizabeth, Queen, relics of her visit to Eton, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Elliot, Mr. Willie, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Estaminet,” the, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eton and Harrow match, <a href="#Page_275">275-279</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">incident after, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eton Mission, <a href="#Page_296">296</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Evans, Miss, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Evans, Mr. William, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Fagging, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309-311</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fight, a fatal, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fighting, anecdotes concerning, <a href="#Page_92">92-98</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Finlay, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Finmore (Dr. Hawtrey’s servant), <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Fire-place,” <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fives, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">first regular court, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Floods, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Flowers, Jimmy, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Font, new, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">old, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Football, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Foote, his remark at the Castle Inn, <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fourth of June, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fox, Charles James, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Frampton Court, viii, <a href="#Page_175">175</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Frescoes in Chapel, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Furking,” <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Games popular in 1770, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> - -<li class="indx">George the Third, <a href="#Page_30">30-33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Giles, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gilmer, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gladstone, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></li> -<li class="isub1">as an Eton boy at Montem, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Godolphin, Provost, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Goodall, Dr., <a href="#Page_26">26-29</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Goodford, Dr., <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gown, changes concerning, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gray, <a href="#Page_242">242</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Green, “Polly,” <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Grieve, an Eton boy burnt to death, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Groves, Barney, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Hale, the Rev. E., <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hall, Jack, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hall, the College, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remodelling of western end, architectural history, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">drastic restoration in 1858, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">present condition, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harcourt, the Rt. Hon. Lewis, vii, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harding, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harris, Mr., <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harrow, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hatecliffe, William, first Eton scholar (1443), <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hatton, Mrs., her “sock shop,” <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Haverley, Jack, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawtrey, Dr., <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288-290</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his monument in Chapel, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawtrey brothers, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawtrey, Mr. John, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawtrey, Mr. Stephen, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Heath, Dr., <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henley, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henry VI., <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henry VIII., <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hexter, Major, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hill, Mr., saves old Eton organ case, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hoaxes, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">an elaborate modern one, <a href="#Page_317">317-320</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hockey, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hodgson, Provost, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his reforms in College, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hoisting, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hoop, its former popularity at Eton, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hoppie (sock cad), <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hornby, Dr., <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288-290</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst"><cite>Illustrated London News</cite>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a> (<em>note</em>)</li> - -<li class="indx">Ingalton Drake’s, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">James, the Rev. C. C., <a href="#Page_292">292</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jesse, Mr. J. H., <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jobey Joel, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Johnson, William (afterwards William Cory), anecdotes of, <a href="#Page_119">119-123</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Joynes, the Rev. J. L., <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Joynes, young Mr., <a href="#Page_291">291</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Keate, Dr., <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">anecdotes of, <a href="#Page_68">68-82</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Keate’s Lane, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Kenyon, Lord, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">King’s, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">arms of, on old Eton organ case, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">dissolution of ancient bond with Eton, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Kintore, Lord, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Ladas, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lanesborough, Lord, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Langford, Lord, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Layton’s, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leaving Books, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Money, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lectern, ancient, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leveson-Gower, Lord Ronald, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Levett, Berkeley, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Levi (sock cad), <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lewis, Dr., <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lock-up, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lock-up Parade, <a href="#Page_327">327</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lomax, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Long Chamber, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of, <a href="#Page_200">200-202</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">remodelling of, <a href="#Page_221">221-222</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Long Glass, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Long-morning, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lord’s, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lord’s (old), <a href="#Page_274">274</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lorne, Lord, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lotteries, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Lower College” (obsolete form of football), <a href="#Page_267">267</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></li> - -<li class="indx">Lower School, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170-172</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lubbock, Mr. Alfred, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lubbock, Mr. Robin, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lubbock family, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lucas, Mr. Reginald, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a> (<em>note</em>)</li> - -<li class="indx">Lupton’s Chapel, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Luxmoore, Mr. H. E., <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lyte, Sir Henry Maxwell, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lyttelton, the Hon. and Rev E. (Headmaster), <a href="#Page_295">295-297</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lyttelton family, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lytton, Phil, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">M’Niven minor, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Malim, William, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Map-making, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Marcon, W., <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Memorial Hall, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Miller, Jem, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Missis” (sock seller), <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mitchell, Mr. R. A. H., <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Monckton, George (afterwards Lord Galway), <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Montem, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of and anecdotes, <a href="#Page_129">129-156</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">waving the flag at, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">costumes worn at, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">last celebration, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">abolition, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">relics of, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Montem poet, <a href="#Page_152">152-156</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">odes, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mordaunt, H. J., <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Moultrie, John, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mowbray Morris, the late Mr., <a href="#Page_2">2</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mozley, Mr. H. W., <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Muttlebury, S. D., <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Naylor’s, Miss, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Newcastle scholar, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Nicknames, <a href="#Page_60">60-62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Noblemen, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Noblemen’s stalls (torn down at restoration of Chapel), <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Officers’ Training Corps, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Okes, Dr., <a href="#Page_197">197</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Oppidan Dinner, <a href="#Page_259">259-261</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Oppidan scholars,” <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Oppidans’ Museum,” <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Orders,” <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Organ case, description of old, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">its history after being discarded by Eton authorities, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Organ screen, modern, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Pass, Charley (sock cad), <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pepys, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Phillott, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pinnacles, rebuilding of old, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Plumtre, Mr., <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Poaching, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pop, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247-249</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_328">328</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Porson, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Poser’s child,” quaint usage, <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Posers,” <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Powell, Jem, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Powell, well-known character at the Wall, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Poyntz, Stephen, captain of Montem in 1706, lines by, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Praepostors, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Private Tutors,” <a href="#Page_41">41</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">nickname for “cads,” <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Private Tutors, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Prose, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Protestant Etonian martyrs, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Provost’s Lodge, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Punch</cite>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Rackets, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rattee, contractor for “restoration” of Chapel, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Ripping,” quaint usage, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Roberts, Lord, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rosebery, Lord, vii, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rouse, Provost, <a href="#Page_13">13</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rowing, notes upon history of, at Eton, <a href="#Page_252">252-263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rowland’s (sock shop), <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rugeley, chapel at, <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rushes, the, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">St. Aldwyn, Lord, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St. Andrew’s Day, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St. Thomas, Dominican Monastery of, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Salt Hill, <a href="#Page_130">130</a> <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et seq.</i>;</li> -<li class="isub1">present condition of, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Salvin, architect, <a href="#Page_194">194</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Saps,” <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Savernake, Lord, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Savile, Sir Henry, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></li> - -<li class="indx">School Magazines, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></li> - -<li class="indx">School Pulling, <a href="#Page_326">326</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Scrulton, F. F. V. captain of the boats, 1911, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Scug,” <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Second Upper Club, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Selwyn, George Augustus, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Selwyn, Thomas, diary of, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seymour, Berkeley, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sharpe, S. S., <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sheep’s Bridge, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shelley, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sheridan, Mrs., viii</li> - -<li class="indx">Shirking, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shore, Jane, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Simmonds, Mr. Robert, viii</li> - -<li class="indx">Sir Galahad, picture in Chapel, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sixpenny, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sixpenny Corner, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Slang, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Smoking, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Smut,” <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Snape, Mrs., <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Snip,” <a href="#Page_322">322</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sock, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sock cads, <a href="#Page_106">106-110</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Solomon, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spankie (the celebrated sock cad), <a href="#Page_106">106-109</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spode, Mr. Josiah, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Sporting Magazine</cite>, account of Etonian in 1799, <a href="#Page_99">99-100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spottiswoode’s, <a href="#Page_320">320</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stafford, Lord, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stage coachmen, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Statutes, their violation about 1834, <a href="#Page_198">198-200</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Statutes, new, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stephen, J. K., <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Stiggins” (see Rev. C. C. James), <a href="#Page_292">292</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stockhore, Herbert, the Montem poet, account of, <a href="#Page_153">153-156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stone, Mr. Christopher, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stone, the Rev. E. D., <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stratford de Redcliffe, Lord, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Street, Mr. G. E., architect, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Strugnal, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Studd family, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sunday questions, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Surly, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sutherland, Duke of, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Swimming, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Swishing, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82-88</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Tap, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326-328</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tapestry formerly in College Hall, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tarver, Mr. F., <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Teape, A. S., <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Theatricals at Eton, <a href="#Page_218">218-221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Thompson, Theophilus, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Threepenny day, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Timbralls, the, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Townshend, Charles Fox, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Training Corps, Officers’, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trials, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trotman (sock cad), <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trotman’s gardens, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tuck, a Colleger, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Tug,” supposed origin of term, <a href="#Page_210">210</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tutorial system, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tutors, private, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Udall, Nicholas, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><cite>Under the Clock</cite>, dramatic sketch given by Mr. Bourchier when at Eton, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Upper Club, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Upper School, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Upper Sixpenny,” <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Ushers,” <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Vaughan, Mr. E. L., <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Verses, Latin, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Victoria, Queen, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Volunteers, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Wall game, notes upon, <a href="#Page_265">265-270</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Walpole, Horace, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Sir Robert, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Lord Walpole of Walterton, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Lord Walpole, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Warre, Dr. (Provost), <a href="#Page_253">253</a> (<em>note</em>), <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Water boils,” “Make tea,” <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Waterford, Lord, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Watts, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Waynflete, William of, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Webber, College servant, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Webber’s, Harry, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wellesley, the Marquess, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">his memorials in old and new chapels, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wellington, the great Duke of, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></li> -<li class="isub1">as a boy at Montem in 1781, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> - -<li class="indx">West, Rt. Hon. Sir Algernon, a survivor of the last Montem, viii;</li> -<li class="isub1">his experiences, <a href="#Page_144">144</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Westminster, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">boat races with Eton, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">cricket matches, <a href="#Page_274">274</a></li> - -<li class="indx">White (Dr. Hornby’s servant), <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">White Hart (inn), <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wilder, the Rev. John, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Williams’, <a href="#Page_325">325</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Winchilsea, Lord, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Winchester, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Windham, William, <a href="#Page_26">26</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Windmill (inn), Botham’s, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Windsor Fair, <a href="#Page_53">53-55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Windsor races, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Woodyer, Mr. (architect), <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wotton, Sir Henry, <a href="#Page_10">10-13</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wren, Sir Christopher, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> -</ul> - -<p class="center" style="margin-top:2em">THE END</p> - -<p class="center" style="margin-top:2em"><em>Printed by</em> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <em>Edinburgh</em>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_157">Chapter VI.</a></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> It seems to have been an old custom for boys who died at Eton to -be buried thus.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_157">Chapter VI.</a></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_204">page 204</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Mr. Tucker in <cite>Eton of Old</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> See pages <a href="#Page_38">38-40</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_5">page 5</a>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> See <cite>The Architectural History of the University of Cambridge and -of the Colleges of Cambridge and Eton</cite>, by the late Robert Willis, M.A., -F.R.S., edited and brought up to date by the late John Willis Clark, -M.A., Cambridge, at the University Press, 1886.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> This appeared in the <cite>Illustrated London News</cite> during the forties of -the last century.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> This list is the one given in <cite>Nugae Etonenses</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Those interested in this period should not fail to read <cite>Eton in -1829-1830</cite>, a translation of a boating diary written in Greek by Thomas -Selwyn. The translator and editor, the present Provost of Eton, Dr. -Warre, D.D., M.V.O., well known to several generations of Etonians -as Assistant and Headmaster, did more than any one else to improve -Eton rowing.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Captain of the eleven 1883-1884, Unionist member for Portsmouth -1900-1906. In more recent years Mr. Lucas has become known to -many as a writer with a particularly pleasant style, who is also -possessed of a gift for delicate versification.</p></div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub--> - -<div class="transnote"> -<h2 style="margin-top: 0em">Transcriber’s Notes:</h2> - -<p>Footnotes have been moved to the end of each chapter and relabeled -consecutively through the document.</p> - -<p>Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are -mentioned.</p> - -<p>Changing headers on odd numbered pages in the original publication have -been formatted as sidenotes and moved to near the topics they reference.</p> - -<p>Punctuation has been made consistent.</p> - -<p>Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in -the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors -have been corrected.</p> - -<p><a href="#Ref_164">p. 164</a>: ζωή transliterates into English as zôê and κλέος transliterates -as kleos (Or ζωή short or κλέος long.)</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Floreat Etona, by Ralph Nevill - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLOREAT ETONA *** - -***** This file should be named 53769-h.htm or 53769-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/6/53769/ - -Produced by deaurider, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> |