THE JUNIOR ON A LOCKBACK HOLIDAY.
Fagging Choristers—Crutch—Currell—Concerts—Fighting—How to
Catch the Measles—“Books Chambers.”
When the weather was too bad on a Holiday or “Remedy” to go on to Hills,
we used to pass the day principally in school; the gate of Seventh
Chamber passage being locked, and communication with Chamber Court being
cut off, it was called a “Lockback.”
On leaving morning chapel on such a day we adjourned at once to school,
when the Fags would by no means have an idle time of it. The instant
they arrived “Junior! Junior! Junior!” would resound on every side, and
in every conceivable tone of gentle entreaty, slight impatience, and
vehement indignation, according to the temper of the caller, or duration
of the call. Then the valets had to arrange their master’s washing things
on Commoners’ table, for few of the Præfects condescended to wash before
chapel. Others were sent, with all kinds of commissions, to “Blue gate,”
(a door in the west wall of School court, which opened into a side
passage running along the outside of the kitchen buildings, to outer
gate,) which was pierced with a hole about a foot square, through which
the Choristers were called and received their orders, and through which
they handed any articles they might have been sent for; the scene here
was similar to that at Whitesman’s hatch at breakfast time, (_v. s._)
crowds of Fags jostling round the hole and clinging to the bars screaming
“Chorister! Chorister!” at the top of their voices, in frantic eagerness
to catch the eye of the first Chorister, the clatter of whose hobnailed
boots would be heard coming up the flint pavement a long time before the
wearer could be seen. When he did appear the cry was, “Fagging for me;”
or, more generally, instead of “me,” the name of the Præfect for whom the
message was to be sent was used, as more likely to carry weight with the
Chorister.
The little Choristers had hard work of it; they were soon scattered
all over the town,—to La Croix’s for a pint of coffee and twopenn’orth
of biscuits, or a “Tizzy tart;” to Nevy’s (this gentleman supplied
edibles at Commoners’ field; I suppose he once had an uncle or an aunt,
and so got his nickname; if he ever had any other name nobody knew it,
and I doubt if he did himself) for strawberries and cream, or Burney’s
biscuits; to Flight’s for sallyluns; to Forder’s for buns; to Stone’s, to
Drew’s, to Raymond’s for anything you like, besides innumerable errands
to the boot-maker, tailor, circulating library, &c., &c.
One of the most common and disagreeable orders for a Junior to receive
on these wet mornings was to get a pint cup; as at the commencement of
the half year the stock-in-trade for the whole College consisted of
about two dozen, and as they were by no means “College ware,” _i.e._,
not easily broken, in a few weeks they became rather scarce articles,
but no Junior being ever allowed to say he “couldn’t” procure anything
he was told to get, he had to depart on his hopeless errand, and, not
succeeding, receive the usual reward.
As the day wore on some of the Præfects would subside into the
comfortably stuffed seats between their scobs, and set to work “Mugging,”
(reading hard,) only occasionally lifting up their voices to call
“Junior!”: other boys would take to playing chess, or some other quiet
game; while the more noisily disposed would indulge in practising
jumps over the Commoners’ tables, playing Hicockolorum, or Crocketts,
(miniature cricket, with a stump and a fives ball,) to the great
detriment of Præfect of School’s windows.
Presently Seventh Chamber passage would open and admit Crutch, (I
wonder what his name really was,) a knowing-looking little man, whose
occupation was that of surgeon to those cricket and fives bats that had
received severe wounds; and he was such a skilful operator that a bat
always seemed to rise like a Phœnix from its ashes after passing through
his hands; a clamorous crowd would speedily surround the bat-surgeon, to
supply him with fresh patients, or consult him on the constitution of
others. Currell, also, would be likely to come in on a wet day,—when I
say Currell, I mean a hair-cutter, for there were two or three of them,
but whoever the individual was, to the boys he was always “Currell.” One
of them operated on me yesterday; as he was combing my luxuriant locks,
he remarked:—“Hair not quite so thick, sir, as it used to was in the
old times; very fine ’ead of ’air then, sir. Remember when you came,
before New Commoners’ was built; great changes since then. Old Poole
dead at last, sir. Doctor’s nephew is a master now, sir; has an ’ouse in
Kingsgate Street, and takes in young gents,” &c., &c. But I don’t think
he could have told me much more, as I find that having my hair cut is
not nearly so tedious an operation as it used to be.
On the dark afternoons in the short half, for about an hour before hall
time, (six o’clock,) the boys used to assemble round the fire, the
Juniors sitting on the stone steps, and the Præfects on scobs ranged in
a semicircle in front; two large vessels of egg-flip were placed in the
middle, from which the contents were scooped out with pint cups, and we
used to sing lustily, if not well. I trust that the _repertoire_ of songs
has been changed since those days; indeed, before I left all the more
objectionable ones were expunged. We always began with “When good King
Arthur reigned,” and then followed promiscuously “The Bay of Biscay,”
“The Workhouse Boy,” “John Barleycorn,” “Three Jolly Postboys,” “Betsy
Baker,” “Captain Bold,” “The Overseer,” “I Loves a Drop of Good Beer,”
“Fox went Out one Moonshiny Night,” “Tally ho! Hark away,” &c.
[Illustration: EGG-FLIP NIGHT.]
Amongst two hundred boys quarrels would occasionally arise, which were
generally adjusted, when the principals were at all equally matched, by
an appeal to that old British weapon—the Fist. Fights were by no means
exceedingly frequent, and when they did come off, were conducted with all
due solemnity. School on a Lockback day was a very favourite arena, and
differences were also settled on Hills and on “Sicily,” (a triangular
piece of grass just at the entrance into Meads,) where I have also seen
a main of cocks fought. I will not give an account of an ideal fight, as
everybody has already read the particulars of that one so graphically
written by my excellent friend Tom Brown, with whose sentiments on
the subject in general I cordially concur, and I strongly recommend
my readers to take down their copy of the book from its shelf at this
moment, and reperuse that portion of it. To the best of my recollection,
I was only once engaged in a _bonâ fide_ set-to of the kind in question;
but I flatter myself that this was a very remarkable contest, being well
remembered for some little time by the fortunate spectators. We commenced
operations immediately after morning chapel, and did not lay down our
arms till the hiss was given for morning school; we were then squaring-up
for the forty-ninth round. I got my head considerably punched in the
first few rounds, during which indeed it was seldom out of Chancery, but
I improved as we got on, and felt quite sorry when we were obliged to
give up; neither of us, however, had afterwards the slightest anxiety
to renew the engagement, and we always continued the best of friends,
having, from practical experience, learnt mutual respect for each other;
and whenever in after life I have had the pleasure of meeting my old
antagonist, we have never failed in conversation to fight our battle over
again.
A good deal of practice with single stick, foils, and boxing-gloves, went
on in school also; I was one day exercising the latter instruments with
Pudding, when I received a blow in the throat which made me feel very
uncomfortable, and we left off; I got worse and worse, and finally had to
apply for leave from school; I then went down to sick house, was rather
feverish that evening, and awoke next morning with—the Measles.
On “Remedies” from eleven till twelve, and from four till five there
was an attempt at keeping order in school, under the presidence of the
unfortunate French Master, who, I fear, had rather a warm time of it, in
endeavouring, with the assistance of the Bible Clerk and Ostiarius, to
maintain anything like a proper command over us. These hours of mitigated
study were called “Books Chambers.”
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