Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Sidenotes are identified as: [SN: text of sidenote].
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
FLOREAT ETONA
[Illustration]
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
[Illustration: The Great Court of Eton College. _Engraved by J. Black
after W. Westall, 1816._]
FLOREAT ETONA
ANECDOTES AND MEMORIES OF ETON COLLEGE
BY RALPH NEVILL
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON
1911
* * * * *
IN MEMORY OF MY DEAR OLD ETON FRIEND S. S. S.
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales awake;
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.
* * * * *
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.
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.
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.
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 Mrs. Sheridan, in whose entrance hall at Frampton
Court, Dorset, this panelling now is.
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.
CONTENTS
PAGE
1. EARLY DAYS 1
2. OLD CUSTOMS AND WAYS 30
3. DR. KEATE--FLOGGING AND FIGHTING 68
4. “CADS,” AND THE “CHRISTOPHER” 99
5. MONTEM 129
6. THE COLLEGE BUILDINGS 157
7. COLLEGE 196
8. SCHOOL WORK 227
9. ROWING AND GAMES 252
10. YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY 286
INDEX 331
ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR
FACE PAGE
The Great Court of Eton College _Frontispiece_
The Oppidan’s Museum or Eton Court of
Claims at the Christopher 116
Ad Montem, 1838 144
The Cloisters of Eton College 158
The College Hall before Restoration 164
The Chapel before Restoration 184
A Colleger, 1816 196
Eton College from the River 328
IN BLACK AND WHITE
Eton in the Seventeenth Century 16
Eton College from Crown Corner 32
Headmaster’s Room, showing Swishing
Block and Birches 82
Jack Hall, Fisherman of Eton 102
Herbert Stockhore, the “Montem Poet,”
going to Salt Hill in 1823 129
The Montem of 1823 130
The Montem of 1841--The March round the
School-Yard 140
Old Oak Panelling formerly in Eton Chapel 174
Carved and Decorated Organ Case formerly
in Eton Chapel 176
James Culliford, the last Chief Butler of
College to wear the livery of Eton blue 202
Old College Servants 206
Sixth-Form Bench 226
Say Father Thames, for thou hast seen
Full many a sprightly race,
Disporting on thy margent green.
The paths of pleasure trace.--_Gray’s Ode_ 242
I EARLY DAYS
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.
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 happiness which the genius of the place seems
to have the gift of bestowing.
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.”
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 more famous, many a more
splendid scene has passed away.”
[SN: FOUNDATION]
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!
And through thy spacious courts, and o’er thy green
Irriguous meadows, swarming as of old,
A youthful generation still is seen,
Of birth, of mind, of humour manifold:
The grave, the gay, the timid, and the bold,
The noble nursling of the palace hall,
The merchant’s offspring, heir to wealth untold,
The pale-eyed youth, whom learning’s spells enthrall,
Within thy cloisters meet, and love thee, one and all.
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.
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 the original charter to “The King’s
College of our Lady of Eton besides Wyndsor.”
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.
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.
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
prevailed--the number of commoners in college (_commensales in
collegio_), for instance, was doubled, it being stipulated that they
must belong to families entitled to bear arms.
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.
[SN: ORIGINAL DESIGN]
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.
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.
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.”
Henry VIII. paid a visit to the school in July 1510, and made a
monetary donation, as was customary in his day.
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:--
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.“
Latin plays were acted during the long winter evenings. Several of
these were written by Nicholas Udall (Headmaster, 1534-1541), the
author of _Ralph Roister Doister_, the first English comedy.
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.
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.”
[SN: ETONIAN MARTYRS]
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.
The names of the Etonians who underwent martyrdom for the reformed
faith were JOHN FULLER, who became a scholar of King’s in 1527, and
was burnt to death on Jesus Green in Cambridge, April 2, 1556; ROBERT
GLOVER, scholar of King’s in 1533, burnt to death at Coventry on
September 20, 1555; LAWRENCE SAUNDERS, scholar of King’s in 1538, burnt
to death at Coventry on February 8, 1556; JOHN HULLIER, 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.”
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.
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.[1]
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 part of the school hours were under the Lower
Master’s control.
[SN: “FLOGGING DAY”]
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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 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.”
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.
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 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.”
[SN: SIR HENRY WOTTON]
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.
Izaak Walton speaks of this in the _Compleat Angler_:--“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.’”
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.
Here the late Dr. Hornby had a riverside villa where he spent a good
deal of his time.
Sir Henry was a great observer of boyhood, as certain quaint
observations of his show:--
“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.”
He was besides a philosopher sagely writing:--
“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, ‘_Sufficient for
the day is the evil thereof_.’ 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.”
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.
[SN: PROVOST ROUSE]
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.
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 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.
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.
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
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.
[SN: A VISIT FROM PEPYS]
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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:--
’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.
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 Etonians who were to shed lustre upon the school.
[SN: “SMOAKING”]
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.”
[Illustration: Eton in the Seventeenth Century, by Loggan. _Print lent
by the Earl of Rosebery, K.G._]
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.
Carriage of letters, etc. £0 2 4
For a bat and ram club 0 0 9
Four pairs of gloves 0 2 0
Eight pairs of shoes 0 16 0
Bookseller’s bill 0 14 2
Cutting his hair eight times 0 2 0
Wormseed, treacle and manna 0 2 8
Mending his clothes 0 2 8
Pair of garters 0 0 3
School fire 0 3 0
Given to the servants 0 12 6
A new frock 0 5 8
---------
£3 4 0
Paid the writing-master half a year,
due next April 21, ’89 1 0 0
---------
The “bat and ram club” was used in connection with an extremely
barbarous custom of hunting 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.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
[SN: THE FIRST DAME]
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
This is shown by a quaint advertisement which appeared in the _London
Evening Post_ of November 9, 1731:--
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.--F. GOODE. _N.B._--It
was erroneously reported that the last place was disposed of under
40s.
An assistant master, Dr. Cooke, succeeded Dr. George as Headmaster, but
managed the school so 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 _Daily
Advertiser_ of August 11, 1747, shows this:--
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.
[SN: DR. BARNARD]
In 1754, however, the ancient fame of Eton began to revive owing to
the appointment of Dr. Barnard--_magnum et memorabile nomen_! 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 in boys, and had occasional “difficulties” with the
Eton “swells” of his day on the point of dress.
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.
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 _Bath Guide_, in a portion of which a critical mother,
“Mrs. Danglecub,” who has a son at school,
Wonders that parents to Eton should send
Five hundred great boobies their manners to mend,
When the master that’s left it (though no one objects
To his care of the boys in all other respects)
Was extremely remiss, for a sensible man,
In never contriving some elegant plan
For improving their persons, and showing them how
To hold up their heads, and to make a good bow,
When they’ve got such a charming long room for a ball,
Where the scholars might practise, and masters and all;
But, what is much worse, what no parent would chuse--
He burnt all their ruffles and cut off their queues;
So he quitted the school in the utmost disgrace,
And just such another’s come into his place.
[SN: A REVOLT]
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 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.
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!”
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,
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.
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:--
If Boys gain their Removes with honour, we have a good custom of
rewarding each with a _Shilling_ (if higher in the school, 2/6d.),
which is given them by the Dames and placed to the Father’s account.
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.
In the late eighteenth century, the holidays consisted of a month at
Christmas, a fortnight at 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.
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.
[SN: SCHOOL MAGAZINES]
In 1786 seems to have been started the first school magazine--the
_Microcosm_, the successors of which have been the _Miniature_ (1804),
the _Linger_ (edited by G. B. Maturin and W. G. Cookesley, for
collegers only, 1818), the _College Magazine_ (John Moultrie, 1818),
the _Etonian_ (Praed, 1820), the _Salt Bearer_ (1820), the _Eton
Miscellany_ (1827), the _Oppidan_ (1828), the _Eton College Magazine_
(1832), the _Kaleidoscope_ (1833), the _Eton Bureau_ (1842), the _Eton
School Magazine_ (1848), the _Porticus Etonensis_ (1859), the _Eton
Observer_ (1860), the _Phœnix_ (1861), and the still flourishing _Eton
College Chronicle_ (1863).
At various periods since the last date ephemeral publications have
intermittently appeared. These, however, are scarcely of sufficient
importance to require mention, the majority having enjoyed but a very
brief existence. The most recent of these journalistic efforts was the
_Eton Illustrated Magazine_, 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.
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.”
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.
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 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.
[SN: DR. GOODALL]
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.
“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 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. 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.”
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.
[SN: A LAST FAREWELL]
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 _Alumni Etonenses_, 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 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.”
FOOTNOTE:
[1] See Chapter VI.
II OLD CUSTOMS AND WAYS
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.
[SN: GEORGE III. AND THE BOYS]
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 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.
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.
Picking out some boy he would jokingly say:
“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?”
On being told he would remark:
“Lucky fellow, lucky fellow.”
The royal visit was a general topic of conversation during the day, and
though one of such frequent 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.
“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.”
“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 ‘_after
four_’ that I can go.”
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.
[Illustration: _Eton College from Crown Corner._ _From an
eighteenth-century print lent by Walter Burns, Esq._]