THE JUNIOR IN HALL.
Rush for Trenchers, &c.—Description of Hall—Toasting and
Cooking—Receipt for Fried Potatoes—Tea—Luncheon—Conning for
Bands—Beever Time—Dinner—Dispars—Fagging in Hall—Kitchen.
At a quarter before nine the door of Seventh chamber passage was
opened, and the boys, eager for breakfast, tumultuously rushed out from
school-court; stopping at the bottom of Hall stairs for a moment, to see
if Poole, the porter, had letters, or, what was even more delightful, a
“Cargo,” (a hamper of game or eatables from home,) for them, and then
darted up the steps.
Before entering, I must give the reader an idea of the internal
arrangement of the noble old Hall, which in beauty and size excels most
of the college halls in Oxford or Cambridge. At the east end is a raised
dais, on which is the “High table,” where the Dons dine in Election week.
Along each side are rows of tables. Those on the north side, allotted to
the Præfects, were called, “Tub, Middle, and Junior Mess,” respectively.
The others, when occupied, being each presided over by a Candlekeeper,
were called respectively senior, second, and so on to junior “End.”
The fireplace is in the centre of the Hall, with two grates looking
in opposite directions, the smoke being conducted away by a chimney
underneath the floor; the whole apparatus, however, is cleared away in
summer time. A screen at the lower end forms a passage, into which opened
“Whiteman’s Hatch,” where “Trenchers,” knives and forks; “Dear’s,” where
bread and cheese; and “Colson’s,” where beer, butter, and salt were
dispensed. The trenchers were about a foot square, and did duty as plates
at all meals; they were admirably adapted for bread and butter, but were
not particularly convenient for those who were partial to hot meat and
gravy. In front of the screen stood “Tub,” from which the Præfect of that
Ilk took his title; it was a strong painted oak chest, with a lid, about
two feet high; its use will be presently described. The great doors at
the top of hall stairs were made fast by a massive oak beam, which was
thrust back into a hole in the thickness of the wall when the doors were
open.
What a rush that used to be up the old stairs; in an instant the
half-doors of the hatches were closed up with a throng of excited
breakfast fags, clambering on each other’s backs, and shouting,
“Robinson, Jones, my own,” which being interpreted means a demand for
trenchers and knives for his masters (some Præfect and Candlekeeper) and
for the applicant himself; he being expected to provide two for each
of the former, (if he only produced one, it would probably be used to
test his descent from the founder,) “his own” were generally ethereal.
The crowd and excitement were much greater at this than at either of
the other hatches, inasmuch as the supply of trenchers and knives was
limited, the latter especially, as they were found (and still oftener
lost) by the boys themselves; whereas at the others, the supply of
eatables was always certain.
Having secured his master’s trenchers, knife and fork, and bread and
butter, the fag had to run down to Conduit to clean the butter, which was
done by battering it against the trencher with a knife under a stream
of water. This was easy enough in warm weather; but when cold it was a
rather heart-breaking operation, as the butter then persisted in breaking
up into crumbs, and rolling about the pavement. The butter washed, then
came the toasting; the grates were spacious, but still not large enough
for the crowd of toasters, especially as the four corners were occupied
each by a boy engaged in frying or grilling potatoes, kidneys, bacon, or
some other viands.
[Illustration: BREAKFAST IN HALL.]
What acres of toast I have made at that fire! We had not proper toasting
forks, but pieces of stick, called “Long Forks,” on which it was
difficult to keep the toast, especially as it was always necessary
to have at least one eye fixed on the batch already done, or awaiting
the operation,—in either case generally placed against the edge of the
fender; if your eye wandered for a minute, a dexterous lunge from some
predacious long-fork transfixed the fruit of all your toil.
“Sic vos non vobis,” &c.
But I must not moralise too much on this iniquity, my own house being
built somewhat after the fashion of the Crystal Palace.
Besides the toasting, there was cooking to be done; this was generally
confined to frying and grilling, at which we used to be tolerable
proficients; and I have often found this and other little accomplishments
that I picked up in my Fagging experiences, useful in a somewhat varied
after-life. We had a particular way of frying potatoes, which, to
my taste, is superior to any other mode of dressing that invaluable
vegetable.
I will give the receipt:—Take a dish of perfectly plain mashed potatoes,
(we used always to use those that had been boiled the day previous,) put
them on the fire in a frying-pan, with just sufficient butter to prevent
them from sticking to its sides, and a little salt and pepper; keep
stirring them about with a knife till they begin to darken in colour,
then put them up with a knife into a cake, like a very thick omelette;
fry till the lower side becomes a rich brown, then toss it over in the
air; fry the other side in a similar manner, and serve up.
Mother Maskell, the worthy old nurse at Sick-House, used to preside over
the tea department; and as the distance from Hall to Kitchen and back was
at least a quarter of a mile, the breakfast fags had a lively time of it,
and were not altogether sorry when middle school began at ten o’clock.
At one P.M. Hall was opened again, and a repast of boiled beef or
pudding, with bread and cheese and beer, was served; the attendance on a
fine day was generally limited to the grace singers, and the Præfect of
Hall or Tub. The joints at the Præfects’ messes were generally kept for
them, and the beef at the Ends given away. The puddings were usually
preserved for Commoner friends; for, by a curious dispensation, they
preferred the College puddings to their own, and we theirs to ours; so
an exchange was generally effected: they decidedly had the best of the
bargain, as we had pudding three times a week, and they only on Sundays.
At grace time all the boys who were present at this meal, stood up on the
dais on top of Hall, and the senior Præfect present used to go round with
a cricket ball in his hand, and inspect their neckcloths to see whether
or not they had their bands attached, the defaulters receiving three or
four smart blows on the head (“conns”) with the ball, by way of reminder.
In summer time we were let out of afternoon school for a short time about
four P.M., when there was a slight refection of bread and cheese laid out
in Hall. It was called “Beever-time,” and the pieces of bread “Beevers.”
I now come to the crying evil of the times I write of, and of which I
am happy to say I had but a slight experience, as during my time the
whole system was entirely changed. The evil that I speak of, is the way
in which the dinner was managed. All the other little discomforts that
I may have undergone as a Junior, seem luxurious pleasures when I think
of that infernal dinner hour. This meal took place at _six_ o’clock P.M.
in College, (in Commoners’ it was at _one_;) it was ample in quantity,
and excellent in quality. That of the Præfects was nicely served up in
joints, that of the Inferiors was divided into portions, (“Dispars;”)
there were, if I remember rightly, six of these to a shoulder, and eight
to a leg of mutton, the other joints being divided in like proportion.
All these “Dispars” had different names; the thick slice out of the
centre of the leg was called “a Middle Cut,” that out of the shoulder a
“Fleshy,” the ribs “Racks,” the loin “Long Dispars;” these were the best,
the more indifferent were the end of the shoulder, or “Cat’s head,” the
breast, or “Fat Flab,” &c., &c.
On Sundays we had beef, except for six weeks at Easter, when we had
veal. Potatoes were served up in pewter dishes, (“Gomers;”) they were
not very good hot, and the Candlekeeper generally took possession of
those served at his End, and had them kept till the next day for frying,
as above described. Each End and Præfect’s mess had their beer served
up in a large white jug, or “Bob.” The vessel used for the same purpose
in Commoners was called a “Joram.” There was nothing to complain of in
the dinner, though it would have been pleasanter if the meat had been
served in joints instead of lumps, and if we had had plates instead of
trenchers to eat it off; however, to the twenty Juniors at any rate, it
was of very slight importance whether the dinner was comfortably served
or not, as they seldom got any. The distribution was managed as follows:
one of the cooks, escorted by the Præfect of Tub, brought up an immense
tray, with a mountain of meat on it; this was taken first to the senior
Candlekeeper’s end, and then to the others in succession. But only those
boys who were at the End at the time it was brought were permitted to
take their dinners, except the Candlekeepers, who were allowed to have
theirs taken by proxy. As will be seen, it was simply impossible for the
Juniors to be up to time, the consequence of which was that more than
half the dinners were not taken; these were thrown into “Tub” at the end
of Hall, whence they were ultimately taken away by some poor women, and
I always understood, (though I am not certain that such was the case,)
that the “Præfect of Tub” got a certain sum for each “Dispar” not taken,
and so had a direct interest in managing that as many as possible should
go without their dinner. I will now explain the absence of the Juniors;
immediately the Præfects were seated, the whole Hall resounded with
shouts of “Junior—_Junior_—JUNIOR,” rising in savageness of tone, as the
supply became exhausted; in five minutes all the Juniors were darting
wildly about in all directions, executing orders received from their
lords and masters; some to Colson’s hatch for salt, or down into cellar
for beer, back to school for something forgotten, into chambers for a
pint cup, down to kitchen for gravy, &c., &c. In the centre of Hall stood
the senior Candlekeeper and Deputy, each armed with a long and supple
ground ash, their business being to continue hitting every one who came
within reach, so that it was absolutely necessary for every boy passing
down Hall to run the gauntlet of one or the other; the only conceivable
reason for this extraordinary arrangement being, I imagine, that in order
to escape the sticks of the flagellators, the Fags dashed past them as
fast as they could, and so got through what they had to do quicker. To
escape this purgatory I have known boys lie underneath the beer butts in
cellar during the whole of Hall time, and once a wretched fugitive was
discovered hidden in the salt tub, into which he had managed to creep,
and had let the lid down over himself afterwards. Happy the Junior who
was “teejèed” by any Præfect, as he not unfrequently was presented by him
with a plate of meat, or the remains of the joint, (called “a Mess,”) in
which case he was exempt from Fagging as long as he was eating it, and
it was extraordinary how difficult it became to pick a bone, and how long
a small slice of meat could be made to last under such circumstances.
Knives and forks being rare articles with the Juniors, we had some
difficulty in getting rid of a dinner when given to us, unless the
Præfect was good enough also to lend his implements. I remember seeing
Skith with one end of a carcase of a hare in each hand, burrowing among
the ribs with his nose and mouth in search of the tit-bits, which, to
judge by the delight depicted on his countenance, were still remaining.
But let us escape from the din of Hall, and pay a visit to Kitchen. In
the way we pass through “Ante-kitchen,” where is the familiar picture of
the “Trusty Servant.”
[Illustration: THE TRUSTY SERVANT.
Effigiem servi si vis spectare probati,
Quisquis es, hæc oculos pascat imago tuos;
Porcinum os quocunque cibo jejunia sedat;
Hæc sera, consilium ne fluat, arcta premit.
Dat patientem asinus dominis jurgantibus aurem;
Cervus habet celeres ire, redire pedes.
Læva docet multum, tot rebus onusta, laborem;
Vestis munditiem, dextera aperta fidem.
Accinctus gladio, clypeo munitus; et indè
Vel se, vel dominum, quo tueatur, habet.
“A trusty servant’s portrait would you see,
This figure well survey, whoe’er you be;
The porker’s snout not nice in diet shows;
The padlock shut, no secret he’ll disclose.
Patient, to angry lords the ass gives ear;
Swiftness on errand the stag’s feet declare;
Laden his left hand, apt to labour saith;
The coat, his neatness; the open hand, his faith:
Girt with his sword, his shield upon his arm,
Himself and master he’ll protect from harm.”]
Here may generally be seen a row of huge leather jugs about two feet
high, (“Jacks,”) made of hippopotamus hide, and peculiar to Winchester,
I believe; at any rate, a relative of mine who lived in one of the
midland counties purchased a pair here every year, and he used to give me
the commission, which I had the greatest pleasure in executing, as he
always sent me a five-pound note to pay for them with, and could never be
induced to take any change.
The Kitchen is a spacious apartment with a vaulted roof, occupying the
entire height of the building on the west side of the quadrangle, and
at least half its length; here we might see a few Fags endeavouring
to coax Jem Sims, John Coward, Bill Bright, or mother Mariner, (the
cooks,) for an extra supply of mashed potatoes, till Kitchen is cleared
by the exasperated Manciple, who has just detected a delinquent in the
act of secreting under his gown an armful of the small faggots used for
lighting the kitchen fires, (called “Bill Brighters,”) an opportunity
for purloining which was never allowed to slip by a Junior of a properly
regulated mind.
It may be asked how the Fags managed to dine at all, and it would be
difficult to answer; but somehow or other we did manage to eat at
odd times, and plenty too, I suppose; at any rate we were always in
excellent condition; there was ample food supplied by College, the
opportunity of eating it only failed. The entire system is now completely
changed; the boys dine at one o’clock, their dinner is as plentiful as
ever, and properly served, with good cookery, plates, and knives and
forks, and no Fagging whatever is allowed, the Choristers waiting, and a
Master being present.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]