The "Parliament" at Willoughby was one of the very old institutions of
the school. Old, white-headed Willoughbites, when talking of their
remote schooldays, would often recall their exploits "on the floor of
the house," when Pilligrew (now a Cabinet Minister) brought in his
famous bill to abolish morning chapel in winter, and was opposed by
Jilson (now Ambassador to the Court at Whereisit) in a speech two hours
long; or when old Coates (a grandfather, by the way, of the present
bearer of that name in the school) divided the house fifteen times in
one afternoon on the question of presenting a requisition to the head
master to put more treacle into the suet puddings! They were exciting
days, and the custom had gone on flourishing up to the present.
The Willoughby Parliament was an institution which the masters of the
school wisely connived at, while holding aloof themselves from its
proceedings. There was no restraint as to the questions to be discussed
or the manner and time of the discussion, provided the rules of the
school were not infringed. The management was entirely in the hands of
the boys, who elected their own officers, and paid sixpence a term for
the privilege of a seat in the august assembly.
The proceedings were regulated by certain rules handed down by long
tradition according to which the business of the House was modelled as
closely as possible on the procedure of the House of Commons itself.
Every boy was supposed to represent some place or other, and marvellous
was the scouring of atlases and geography books to discover
constituencies for the young members. There was a Government and an
Opposition, of course, only in the case of the former the "Ministers"
were elected by the votes of the whole assembly, at the beginning of
each session. They were designated by the titles of their office.
There was a Premier and a Home Secretary, and a First Lord of the
Admiralty, and so on, and great was the pride of a Willoughbite when he
first heard himself referred to as the Right Honourable!
Everything that came before the house had to come in the form of a bill
or a resolution. Any one anxious to bring up a subject (and there was
nothing to prevent the junior fag bringing in a bill if he liked)
usually handed in his motion early in the session, so as to stand a good
chance of getting a date for his discussion. Later on, when more
subjects were handed in than there were evenings to debate them, the
order was decided by ballot, and due notice given every Friday of the
business for the next evening.
Another feature of these meetings was, of course, the questions. Any
one was entitled to question the "Government" on matters affecting the
school, and the putting and answering of these questions was usually the
most entertaining part of an evening's business. Naturally enough, it
was not always easy to decide to whose department many of the questions
asked belonged, but tradition had settled this to some extent. The Home
Secretary had to answer questions about the monitors, the First Lord of
the Admiralty about the boats, the Secretary of State for War about
fights, and so on, while more doubtful questions were usually first
asked of the Premier, who, if he didn't find it convenient to answer
them, was entitled to refer the inquirer to some other member of the
Government.
It need hardly be said that the meetings of the Willoughby Parliament
were occasionally more noisy than dignified, and yet there existed a
certain sense of order and respect for the "authority of the House"
which held the members in check, and prevented the meetings from
degenerating into riots. Another reason for the same result existed in
the doctor, who sanctioned the Parliament only as long as it was
conducted in an orderly manner, and did not offend against the rules of
the school. And a final and more terrible reason still was in the fact
that the House had the power of expelling a member who was generally
obnoxious.
The session at Willoughby always opened on the Saturday after the May
sports, and notice had been duly given that Parliament would assemble
this year on the usual date, and that the first business would be the
election of a Speaker and a Government.
The reader will easily understand that, under present circumstances, an
unusual amount of interest and curiosity centred in the opening meeting
of the school senate, and at the hour of meeting the big dining-hall,
arranged after the model of the great House of Commons, was, in spite of
the fact that it was a summer evening, densely packed by an excited
assembly of members.
Most of the boys as they entered had stopped a moment to read the "order
paper," which was displayed in a prominent place beside the door. It
was crowned with notices, the first three of which gave a good idea of
the prospect of a lively evening.
1. "That the captain of the school be elected Speaker of this House."
Proposed by T. Fairbairn; seconded by E. Coates.
2. "That Mr Bloomfield be elected Speaker of this House." Proposed by
G. Game; seconded by R. Ashley.
3. "That Francis Cusack, Esquire, member for the Isle of Wight, be
elected Speaker of this House." Proposed, A. Pilbury, Esquire;
seconded, L. Philpot, Esq.
The humour of the last notice was eclipsed by the seriousness of the
other two. It had always been taken for granted that the captain of
Willoughby was also the Speaker of the House, and a contested election
for that office was without precedent. Now, however, the old rule was
to be challenged; and as the members waited for the clock to strike six
they discussed the coming contest among themselves with a solemnity
which could hardly have been surpassed in Westminster itself.
The clock sounded at last; every one was in his place. The seniors sat
ranged on the front benches on either side of the table, and the others
crowded the benches behind them, impatiently waiting for the proceedings
to commence.
According to custom, Riddell, as captain of the school, rose, and
briefly proposed, "That Mr Isaacs, Senior Limpet, be requested to
preside until after the election of a Speaker."
The appearance of the captain to move this resolution had always been
the signal for a loud ovation from the House. But this year the cheers
were confined to a very small cluster of schoolhouse boys, and died away
languidly in the general silence which prevailed elsewhere. Riddell's
motion being seconded and carried, Mr Isaacs, a pallid unintelligent-
looking Limpet, rose and advanced to the chair at the end of the table
usually occupied by the Chairman of Committees, and, knocking with a
hammer once or twice, demanded silence. This being secured, he called
out, "Mr Fairbairn!" and sat down.
Fairbairn's speech was brief and to the point.
"I beg to move that the captain of the school be elected Speaker of this
House. I don't know that I need say anything in support of this."
("Oh, oh!" from a voice opposite.) "The captain always has been Speaker,
and Mr Riddell has already taken an active part in the business of the
house and knows what the Speaker's duties are. We all miss old
Wyndham,"--(loud cheers)--"but I'm sure Riddell will be a worthy
successor to him in the chair of this House."
Coates having said, "I beg to second the motion," Mr Isaacs put it to
the meeting, and asked if there was any amendment. Whereupon Game rose,
amid loud cheers from all quarters.
Game, as has already been said, was an honest fellow. He meant what he
said, and generally said what he meant. He was fully convinced in his
own mind that Willoughby would go to the dogs under the new captain, and
therefore if Riddell had been his own twin-brother he would have
protested against him all the same.
"I beg to move an amendment," he said, "and it is this: That Mr
Bloomfield be appointed Speaker of this House instead of Mr Riddell."
(It will be noticed by the way that when Willoughby sat in Parliament
everybody was "Mr") "And the reason I do so is because I consider Mr
Bloomfield ought to be captain of the school instead of Mr Riddell.
(Loud Parrett cheers.) I've nothing to say against Mr Riddell--(cheers
from the schoolhouse)--except that I don't consider he's the right man
in the right place. (Great applause.) He's been made captain against
our wishes,"--("Hear, hear," and "Oh, oh!")--"and we can't help it. But
we're not obliged to have him captain here, and what's more, we don't
mean to! (Terrific cheers, especially from the juniors.) Mr
Bloomfield's our man. Only to-day he stopped a row in the Fourth in two
minutes which Mr Riddell couldn't have stopped if he'd stayed till
now." (Laughter, and cries of "Give him a clothes-brush!") "The fellows
all look up to Mr Bloomfield. He ran grandly for the school at the
sports the other day, and licked the London fellow. (Here the
enthusiasm became positively deafening.) What's Mr Riddell done for
the school? I should like to know. We want a fellow who has done
something for the school, and, I repeat, Mr Bloomfield's our man, and I
hope you'll elect him Speaker."
Game sat down amidst a tempest of applause, which brought a flush of
pleasure even to his serious face.
Many curious eyes were turned to Riddell to see the effect of this
uncomplimentary oration upon him.
At first he had looked nervous and uncomfortable, and had even whispered
to Fairbairn, who sat next him, "Don't you think I'd better go?"
"For goodness' sake, no!" exclaimed Fairbairn. "Don't be a fool,
Riddell."
The caution had its weight. Riddell saw he must brave it out; and that
being settled, he felt more comfortable, and listened to all the
unpleasant things that were said in a composed manner which greatly
perplexed his adversaries.
Ashley, who seconded Game's motion, was hardly so fortunate in his
remarks as his predecessor.
"I second the motion, gentlemen," he said. "It's time we made a stand
against this sort of thing." ("What sort of thing?" from voices on the
schoolhouse side.) "Why, schoolhouse tyranny. (Frantic Parrett cheers.)
Why is the whole credit of Willoughby to be sacrificed for the sake of
your precious schoolhouse?" ("Question!" "Order!" drowned by renewed
cheers.) "Why, just because he's a schoolhouse fellow, is a muff to be
stuck over us? and just because he's a Parrett's fellow, is a splendid
fellow like Mr Bloomfield to be snubbed in the face of the whole
school? (Loud cheers.) It's time Willoughby found out that Parrett is
the cock house of the school." ("Oh! oh!" from the Welchers.) "It's got
the best men in it. (Parrett cheers.) It's head of the river." ("Oh
no, not yet," from Fairbairn.) "Well, it will be very soon. It's ahead
in everything." ("Except intelligence," from Crossfield.) "No, I don't
even except intelligence. (Loud cheers from Bosher, and laughter.)
And, as a sign of its intelligence, I beg to second the motion."
This abrupt and somewhat vague termination to Ashley's spirited address
did not detract from the applause with which it was greeted by his own
partisans, or from the wrath with which it was received by the
schoolhouse boys.
The moment he sat down Crossfield sprang to his feet. This was the
signal for loud schoolhouse cheers, and for general attention from all
quarters, for Crossfield usually had something to say worth listening
to.
"Mr Limpet, sir,"--(loud laughter; Isaacs, who had been drawing niggers
on the paper before him, started, and blushed very much to find himself
thus appealed to)--"I am sure we are all much obliged to the honourable
member who has just sat down for the `sign of intelligence' he has just
favoured us with. (Laughter.) We've been looking for it for a long
time--(laughter)--and it's come at last! (Cheers and laughter.) Sir,
it would be a great pity to let such an occasion pass without notice.
I'm not sure that the doctor might not think it worth a half-holiday. A
sign of intelligence from the hon. gentleman! And what is the sign,
sir? (Laughter.) The hon. member seconds the motion." ("Hear, hear!"
from Parrett's.) "Gentlemen of the same party say `Hear, hear!' as much
as to say, `We, too, show signs of intelligence!' Do you really,
gentlemen? I could not have believed it. (Loud laughter.) Why does he
second the motion? Because he's a Parrett's boy, and Mr Bloomfield is
a Parrett's boy, and all Parrett's boys say a Parrett's boy ought to be
the head of the school! Gentlemen, parrots aren't always to be trusted,
even when they show signs of intelligence! (Cheers and laughter.)
Don't you believe all a parrot tells you about parrots. (Laughter.) I
prefer the arguments of the gentleman who moved the amendment. He says
he doesn't think Mr Riddell is fit to be captain. (Cheers.) I agree
with him--(tremendous Parrett's cheers, and consternation of
schoolhouse)--I don't think Mr Riddell is fit to be captain. He
doesn't think so himself." ("Hear, hear!" from Riddell, and laughter.)
"But the gentleman says Mr Bloomfield is the man. (Loud cheers.) I
don't agree with that at all. Mr Riddell knows very little about
sports, though I do hear he was seen coxing a schoolhouse boat this
morning. (Derisive cheers.) Mr Bloomfield knows almost as little
about classics! (Loud laughter from the schoolhouse.) Why, gentlemen,
do you mean to say you think a fellow who couldn't translate `Balbus
hopped over a wall' without looking up three words in a lexicon is fit
to be a Willoughby captain?" (Laughter from the juniors, and cries of
"Time!" from Parretts.) "I say not. Even though he's a Parrett's boy,
and therefore can show a sign of intelligence! (Laughter.) No; what I
say is, whether we believe in him or not, Mr Riddell is captain; and
until you can show me a less bad one, I'll vote for him."
This oration, delivered with great animation and amidst constant
laughter, helped to put the meeting in rather better humour, all except
the Parrett's fellows, who did not enjoy it at all.
However, before any of them could make up his mind to reply, a shrill
voice was heard from the other end of the hall, "Sir! It is time the
Welchers had a word!"
This innocent announcement caused a loud burst of laughter, in which
every one joined, especially when it was discovered that the orator was
none other than the youthful Mr Pilbury himself!
He stood surrounded by a small cluster of admiring juniors, who glared
defiantly out on the assembly generally, and "backed up their man" till
he could hardly breathe.
"It's all very well," screamed Pilbury. (Loud cheers from Cusack and
Philpot.) But here the chairman's hammer sounded and cries of "Order"
checked the orator's progress.
"The hon. member," said Isaacs, "cannot propose his motion till the
motion before the House is disposed of."
Pilbury scowled fiercely at the speaker.
"I _shall_ propose it," he cried, "and you'd better shut up, old Ikey!"
Game, amid much laughter, rose to order, and asked if these expressions
were parliamentary?