NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN.
There can be but few left now who are able to call to mind that the
style of coaches which now run in the summer months from the "White
Horse Cellars," and traverse the different roads out of London, were
to a great extent anticipated more than fifty years ago. But so it is,
and I have a vivid recollection of having seen, in the years 1837 or
38, a remarkably well-appointed coach start from the "Cellars," which
created quite a crowd of people, even in those days when coaches were
as common as blackberries. It was named the "Taglioni," after a
favourite _danseuse_ of those days, and ran to Windsor and back in the
day. It was painted blue, with a red undercarriage, the family colours
of Lord Chesterfield, who horsed it, in conjunction with Count d'Orsay
and Prince Bathyani. Young Brackenbury was the professional coachman,
for, though his Lordship and his brother proprietors drove very
frequently, they kept a curate to do the work when they had other
things to do which they liked better. Brackenbury used to wear a most
_récherché_ blue scarf, with "Taglioni" embroidered on it by the
Countess's own hands.
His Lordship had the credit of being a very good coachman, as will be
seen from the few lines I venture to produce, which appeared in one of
the sporting periodicals of that time:--
"See Chesterfield advance with steady hand,
Swish at a rasper and in safety land,
Who sits his horse so well, or at a race,
Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace."
No doubt, the "Taglioni" did take her share in the ordinary business
of a public conveyance, and not, as in the present day, of carrying
only parties on "pleasure bent," but it had a certain spice of the toy
about it; and I should think did not much exercise the minds of Pears
or Shepherd, who each had a coach on the same road. As a boy, I had an
eye for a coach, and remember, as well as I remember old Keat's birch,
seeing those two coaches pass through Eton. Shepherd's was a true blue
coach, and travelled on the maxim of "Certain, though slow." Pears
drove a coach painted chocolate with red undercarriage, and was
altogether a smarter turn-out than the gentle Shepherd, and travelled
somewhat faster, but, I believe, ran little chance of being run in for
furious driving.
Whilst I stand in fancy upon the classic ground of Eton, there arises
before my sight a pageant, which for better or worse has now, like so
many other antique customs, passed away never to be revived. I suppose
this is a necessary accompaniment of the progress of the age, and that
"Montem" could hardly have been carried on in the days of the boiling
kettle. It would have been as easy to get blood out of a stone as
_salt_ from a rushing train; besides which the present facilities
of locomotion would have brought together an exceedingly miscellaneous
gathering at Salt Hill, to say the least of it.
Still it was a unique institution, and contained in it a very kindly
feeling--that of giving a little start in the world to a youth who had
attained the top rung of the college ladder, and was entering upon his
university career.
Most of the ways and doings of old Eton have found plenty of
chroniclers. The institution in the library is never forgotten. The
birch and the block always come in for their fair share of comment,
but the triennial festival of "Montem" has, so far as I am aware, not
received anything like the same amount of attention; and as I acted a
part in two of them, both in blue and red, I will venture to intrude
upon the patience of the reader whilst I make a short digression,
emboldened thereto by the fact that Eton customs have already been
handled, as well as the ribbons, in a book on coaching.
Well, then, "Montem" was celebrated every third year. The day's work
began by four boys, selected for the purpose and gaily habited,
starting off by two and two, early in the morning, to scour the
principal roads in the neighbourhood, and gather donations in
money--called for the occasion "_Salt_"--from all the travellers
they met with. By this means a nice sum was collected, which was
given to the senior boy on the foundation upon his leaving the college
for the University of Cambridge. At a later hour, about ten o'clock,
the whole school assembled in the college square. The sixth form, if I
recollect rightly, wore fancy dresses, representing some classical or
historical characters, and attended by one or two pages, selected from
the lower boys, and also wearing fancy dresses. The fifth form wore a
rather heterogeneous dress, a mixture of military and civil. It
consisted of a red coat and white trousers, with a sword and sash,
surmounted by a cocked hat, from which was fluttering in the wind a
feather, such as was worn by a Field-Marshal or a General Officer,
according to the taste of the wearer, or in what he could get. The
lower boys were dressed in blue jackets and white trousers, each
carrying in his hand a white wand, in length about six or seven feet,
and in the procession were mixed alternately with the semi-military
fifth form.
In this formation they marched round the quadrangle of the college,
upon debouching from which a somewhat strange scene ensued. The
wearers of the red coats drew their swords and began hacking
vigorously at the wands, which were held out by their owners for the
purpose of being cut to pieces. The swords, however, were so blunt
that more wands owed their destruction to the hands of the blue boys
than the swords of the red. The work of destruction being
accomplished, the whole fell in again and marched to Salt Hill, where
dinners were provided for them by their different houses; and dinner
being ended, they returned to college as they liked.
The two hotels at Salt Hill are, I believe, now converted to other
uses, and the dwellers there would be as much astonished to see a
"Montem," as one of the hundred and odd mails and coaches which passed
their doors in those days.