Floreat Etona: Anecdotes and Memories of Eton College

Part 12

Chapter 123,793 wordsPublic domain

The interior of the Chapel as it appeared before 1700 in no wise resembled that which we at present see. Mural monuments abounded about the chancel; these, after being concealed by the wainscoting put up in 1700, were ruthlessly torn from their places by those responsible for the restoration of 1847. Some of them are in the Ante-Chapel, others were totally swept away. In the original Chapel there were probably only benches at the east end, whilst low wooden stalls with miserere seats occupied the place of the present seats crowned by canopies. The only remnants of the ancient woodwork appear to be some old wooden forms in the Ante-Chapel, on which boys now leave their hats. It is recorded that in 1625 Thomas Weaver, a “Fellow,” gave “four strong forms to stand in the aisles of the Church for the townsmen to sit on.” The seats in question, it should be added, seem originally to have been intended for the townspeople of Eton, who then attended the Chapel as their parish church.

Above the low stalls were paintings, and these in 1560 the College barber was ordered to wash out; his account for the work (6s. 8d.) is still extant. The barber, however, merely covered up the designs with white paint or whitewash, and when the fine old stalls were removed the paintings could be clearly seen upon the wall behind. In 1847, however, in order to produce a surface capable of showing up the canopies of the new stalls then in course of erection, the workmen proceeded to scrape out all trace of the ancient designs, and they had already finished this work of destruction at the top of the walls beneath the string-courses when a Fellow of the College, chancing to stroll in to inspect the work, saved the rest, some of which still remains behind the modern panelling, of which the Eton authorities have certainly very little reason to be proud. After the discovery there was for a time some idea of leaving the paintings exposed to view, or at least contriving an arrangement of sliding panels. Provost Hodgson, however, objected to them as being “superstitious,” and they were consequently permanently covered by the present panelling. The designs, which were fortunately sketched before being covered up, have been described as the finest of the kind ever discovered in England. They were in all probability the work of some Florentine artist of the fifteenth century. Each row of paintings was divided longitudinally into seventeen compartments, alternately wide and narrow. Concerning these Sir Maxwell Lyte, in his excellent history of the College, writes:--

The former contained historical compositions, the latter single figures of Saints represented as standing in canopied niches. Most of these Saints may be identified by their emblems. Under each of the large compartments there was a Latin inscription, explaining the subject of the picture, and giving a reference to the book whence its story was derived. The works most frequently quoted were the _Legenda Sanctorum_ and Vincent of Beauvais’ _Speculum Historiale_, one of the earliest productions of the printing-press, which had already gone through three editions before 1479. According to a practice which prevailed extensively in the fifteenth century, successive incidents of a story were often represented as forming only one scene, the same figure appearing two or three times in different combinations. The whole series was intended to exemplify the gracious protection afforded by the Blessed Virgin, the Patroness of the College, to her votaries in all ages and countries. No less than six of the compartments were occupied by scenes from the life of a mythical Roman Empress.

[SN: GROSS VANDALISM]

From first to last the so-called restoration cost over £20,000, £5000 of which was contributed by Mr. Wilder. In reality it was no restoration at all--merely a terrible act of vandalism, only exceeded in lack of taste by the alterations carried out at the sister college of Winchester some thirty years later, when all the priceless woodwork was removed from the chapel. Within recent years this was sold for an enormous sum, and is now at Hursley Park, not many miles away from the College which it once adorned.

Besides the tearing down of the fine old panelling and the partial destruction of ancient frescoes, in all probability a quantity of other interesting old work was destroyed at the orgy of iconoclasm in 1847. The only object of those in power at Eton at that time seems to have been to destroy everything which recalled the past. They gloried in the havoc they wrought within the Chapel, and in their “restoring fervour” actually went so far as to tear up the black and white marble pavement. It is to be hoped that some day this may be replaced. Would that some portion of the fine old woodwork might be recovered and once again find a place in the sacred edifice where for close upon a hundred and fifty years it met the eyes of generations of Etonians!

In place of the stately old noblemen’s seats put up in 1700, Deeson designed seventy oak stalls with carved canopies of modern Gothic design. Each canopy seems to have cost £42, which, considering that the artistic value of the stalls is exactly nil, is a large sum. It would be interesting to know what the value of the noblemen’s stalls which Deeson tore down would be at the present time!

Entering the Chapel through the screen, the first of the canopied stalls on the right is that occupied by the Provost, that on the left by the Vice-Provost. The second stall on the right was given by the Fellows of King’s College, the third by Winchester College, and the fourth by the President and Fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford, like Eton connected with the memory of Waynflete. The Headmaster’s stall is the seventeenth on the right, distinguished by the words _Magister Informator_. Exactly opposite is the seat of the Lower master (_Ostiarius_), who, however, usually attends Lower Chapel. A number of the stalls given by Etonians or Etonian families have tablets with inscriptions. Next but two to the Lower master, for instance, is a stall given by the Cust family, of whom some eight generations have been educated at Eton. Beneath the seat is to be found the genealogy of all the Custs who have been at the school. The twenty-sixth stall on either side are those of the chaplains (_Capellani Conductitii_), known as “Conducts” at Eton. The last stall but one on the left was given by James Rattee, the contractor for the stalls, and the one opposite by Deeson, the architect, who no doubt thought that his imitation Gothic was vastly superior to the stately work which he treated with such contempt.

[SN: MACHINE-MADE GOTHIC]

Most of the alterations in the Eton Chapel were lamentable in the extreme. Nevertheless they excited great admiration amongst many who had sat there in its unrestored days. Apparently they were quite satisfied that the fine old panelling, in all probability designed by Wren, should be removed. One of these lovers of novelty wrote: “Those who only know the Chapel in its present nobly restored state could with difficulty go back to the simply glazed windows, bare walls, and cold cheerless aspect of the whole interior in former times.”[5] How such a “noble restoration” (consisting in the destruction of every vestige of ancient woodwork in order to substitute a quantity of machine-made-looking Gothic stalls and some poor cusping to the roof) can have moved any one to enthusiasm it is almost impossible to understand. Nor can the crudely coloured stained-glass windows be said to be a great improvement upon the old plain glass, which at least caused no pain to the eye.

The true and artistic restoration would have been to have retained the old stalls against the western walls, while contriving a method by which portions of it could be temporarily removed in order to afford a view of the frescoes. The high box-like pews might have been modified, the old woodwork being utilised to the utmost extent, or at least preserved for use in other parts of the College. If the position of the stately old organ-loft opposite the second window of the west end was found to be absolutely unsuited to modern requirements, together with its wooden pilasters of admirable design, it might have been re-erected at the junction of the choir with the Ante-Chapel, the stalls being continued farther back. As for the magnificent organ-case, there would have been no difficulty, as has been proved at Rugeley, about furnishing it with a modern interior and new pipes. The roof should have merely been freed from paint, etc., and not been adorned with the meaningless cusping, which, never contemplated by its original designer, is so obviously out of place.

The present organ-screen, erected in 1882 by Mr. G. E. Street in memory of Etonians who fell in the Zulu, Afghan, and Boer wars of 1879, 1880, and 1881, cannot be called a masterpiece of architectural design, but in certain other respects the interior of the Chapel has been somewhat improved within recent years. An elaborately designed floor of black and white marble has been laid down at the east end. This, together with a handsome if not altogether appropriate altar, forms part of the memorial to the Etonians who fell in the South African War (1899-1902). As stated before, the names of those who died for their country in this deplorable contest are inscribed upon a roll of honour in Lupton Chapel.

The fine tapestry behind the altar, executed by the firm of William Morris from the designs of the late Sir Edward Burne-Jones, was presented by an art-loving Eton Master, Mr. H. E. Luxmoore, in 1895, whilst the picture of Sir Galahad, hanging on the western wall, was presented by its painter, Watts.

The great stained-glass east window--a source of grumbling and discontent to several generations of Etonians, who were obliged to contribute what was known as “window-money”--was executed by Willement between 1844 and 1849, being set up in bits as the contributions wrung from the boys increased. Within recent years the crude and violent tints of this costly example of the work of a bad period have been softened. The irregular curve of the external arch-mould over this window is said to be due to the circumstance that when the College Chapel was built the stones of the Parish Church (which stood in the present graveyard and was built in 1441) were used over again.

[SN: A TRANSPARENT FAILURE]

If the great east window is now somewhat less of a “transparent failure” than of yore, the other windows on the north and south sides of the Chapel remain specimens of bad design and colour. Those in the Ante-Chapel, however, are less glaring. The two large windows by Hardman on the north and south form the memorial to Etonians who fell in the Crimea; those at the west end are personal memorials. Below these windows are a number of tablets commemorating Etonians of note. On the floor of the Ante-Chapel is a fine slab to the memory of the late Bishop Abraham. There is also a marble statue of the Founder, by Durham, and another of Provost Goodall, who in all probability would have been appalled by the changes of 1847.

The Rev. John Wilder, whose munificence served to modernise the College Chapel he had known all his life, is also here commemorated by a tablet. Besides giving £5000 to the restoration fund, he presented fourteen stained-glass windows in the choir, and decorated the reredos and east end as well as the new organ and case. Though his benefactions were animated by a generous and unselfish spirit, it is much to be regretted that he did not devote his money to some better purpose.

[SN: THE LOST FONT]

In the Ante-Chapel, behind a railing, is a font, placed there at the time of the renovations sixty years ago. It was presented by some Collegers as a memorial to C. J. Abraham. The last baptism for which it was used took place two or three years ago, when an Eton boy of fourteen or fifteen was christened in the Chapel. About to be confirmed, it was discovered that he had never been baptized. In all probability he was a foreigner. There stood previously at the same place an older font, of which there is mention as early as 1479. Lipscomb describes the earlier one as “a beautiful ancient font of white marble, of an octagon shape, elegantly carved in relief and supported by a pedestal on a square plinth.” It would be interesting to know what has become of this font. If not broken up, it has probably been sent away to some village church.

In the Ante-Chapel, before the Reformation, there existed four altars, the chief of which, still marked by a row of niches, was in the south-eastern corner behind where now stands the statue of Provost Goodall. This was called the Altar of St. Catherine, or sometimes the Altar of Thomas Jourdelay, after a certain inhabitant of Eton who lies buried near it. Provost Bost (1477-1504) left a sum of money for an extra chaplain who should say Mass at this altar at least three times a week for him and his relations. The altar in the north-eastern corner of the Ante-Chapel was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin. The remaining two were on either side of the entrance to the choir and were dedicated to St. Nicholas and St. Peter.

One of the few relics which the spirit of change has left intact in this old Chapel is the lectern, which within recent years has once more been taken into use. It dates from the fifteenth century, and escaped destruction by the Puritans in 1651, when the College paid sixpence for its removal. A considerable number of Etonians are fittingly commemorated in the Chapel, but the Marquis Wellesley, in all probability the greatest lover of Eton who ever lived, has his memorial in the North Porch, where may be seen the Latin elegiacs which he wrote as his own epitaph. The tablet on which they are inscribed was erected by his brother, the great Duke. A good rendering in English verse was made by Lord Derby:--

Long tost on Fortune’s waves, I come to rest, Eton, once more on thy maternal breast. On loftiest deeds to fix the aspiring gaze, To seek the purer lights of ancient days, To love the simple paths of manly truth,-- These were the lessons of my opening youth. If on my later life some glory shine, Some honours grace my name, the meed is thine. My boyhood’s nurse, my aged dust receive, And one last tear of kind remembrance give!

Lord Wellesley was deeply attached to his old school, and some of the last productions of his pen were dedicated to Eton. Consequently it was only fitting that when he died, in testimony of the strong affection which he entertained towards the place where he received his first impressions of literary taste, and in accordance with his desire expressed before his death, his body should be laid to rest beneath the College Chapel of Eton--that spot of earth which, through a long and arduous life in many lands, was ever the nearest and dearest to his heart. The new Lower Chapel, built 1889-1891, also contains a memorial to Lord Wellesley in a stained-glass window, the gift of the late Mr. A. Montgomery, who was once his private secretary.

Two Eton Headmasters are commemorated by monuments on the right towards the eastern end of the Chapel. These are Dr. Balston and Dr. Hawtrey, the last person to be buried within the Chapel walls. On his breast is a badge with the arms of Scotland and the motto _Nemo me impune lacessit_ just showing. This badge recalls an old Eton usage[6] now extinct. The most modern monument is a statue of Henry VI., put up over the north door to the memory of the late Mr. J. P. Carter, for many years one of the Assistant Masters.

[SN: PINNACLES--OLD AND NEW]

In 1876, owing to much of the Headington stone used by Waynflete having become decayed, the whole of the exterior of the Ante-Chapel was entirely refaced.[7] This, with other restorations, of necessity impaired a good deal of its ancient charm. On the whole the renovation was carried out with care, but it is to be regretted that the old pinnacles were then entirely removed and new ones (designed in a highly ornate style of Gothic for which there is no authority[8]) erected under the direction of Mr. Woodyer. The old pinnacles had last been repaired in 1698-1699. A curious circumstance connected with them is that during their removal fragments of the ancient reredos--destroyed in 1546-1548--were discovered to have been built into their fabric. Whatever may have been the demerits of the old pinnacles, one or two of them which had suffered least from the hands of time should have been allowed to remain in place, so that future generations might realise the original design which modern taste, or lack of taste, has chosen to discard.

One of the most interesting architectural features of the College Chapel is the ancient holy water stoup on the right-hand side of the door of the south porch. As may be seen in old prints, the service bell was formerly in a sort of dovecot (irreverently called by some a larder) placed on the roof of the porch. Here also hung the knell bell, which, as long as the College Chapel remained the Eton Parish Church, was tolled for all funerals. The service bell still in use, hanging in the turret at the south-western angle, bears the inscription “Prayes Ye Lord, 1637.”

In a niche on the west wall of the Ante-Chapel, facing the street, a statue of William Waynflete was placed in 1893. This was subscribed for by some old Etonians connected with Sussex. The task of designing it was entrusted to Sir Arthur Blomfield, who produced one of the very few bits of commendable modern work in Eton. Indeed, this little statue, beneath an elaborate canopy, may be called the only real artistic improvement carried out within the last seventy years, during which time so much labour and money have been devoted to what in some cases amounts to mere wanton destruction. Of the new quadrangle and Lower Chapel, built by Sir Arthur Blomfield 1889-1891, little need here be said. On the whole, the architect has done his work well, and no doubt, under the mellowing influence of time, the Queen’s schools will assume something of that picturesque aspect which in some slight degree already pertains to the New Schools completed by Mr. Woodyer in 1863.

[SN: LOWER CHAPEL]

A full account of the new Lower Chapel, its memorials and stained-glass windows, is to be found in the admirable _Illustrated Guide to Eton College_ written by Mr. R. A. Austen Leigh, who in this and other works has done much which should gain for him the thanks of all Etonians. Since the construction of the New Schools, Upper School, which tradition has connected with the name of Wren, is only used as a schoolroom for one division for the purposes of examination. Speeches, I believe, are now to take place in the new Memorial Hall, and the busts of celebrated Etonians will no longer look down upon the visitors who flock to Eton on the 4th of June. The old staircase, from the colonnade to Upper School, is one of the most picturesque portions of the College. Here it was that in old days boys promoted from Lower to Upper School were subjected to the ordeal of “booking,” being hit on the head with books as they passed up the staircase.

Within the last fifty years the town of Eton has suffered severely from a picturesque point of view owing to the demolition and alteration of many quaint old houses which formerly gave the place a charming old-world appearance. The “Old Sun,” which was pulled down not very long ago, contained some fine arched oaken beams, and the laths were perpendicular and fastened with willow twigs. On the front wall used to be a Sun Insurance plate of the eighteenth century, one of the earliest issued by that Company.

In that part of Eton given up to houses for boys, alterations have of necessity been made in order to afford accommodation for increased numbers. Some of the older houses have had extra stories added, whilst entirely new ones have also been built. Of these latter somewhat “barracky” erections it is perhaps best not to speak.

With regard to the Eton Memorial, however, built for some unknown reason in the Renaissance style, the writer can only say that in his opinion a building less in keeping with the spirit of Eton it would have been impossible to erect. Why the authorities should have selected a design of this sort is difficult to understand. Surely some architect might have been found to produce a building which would have harmonised with the fine old brickwork which in the quadrangle and elsewhere produces such a charming effect? To intrude a purely personal opinion, those responsible for the maintenance of Eton School have within the last seventy years committed three great artistic mistakes--the first, the indiscriminating restoration of the College Chapel, entailing the destruction of much admirable woodwork; the second, the renovation of the College Hall, in which it is admitted a number of interesting features were obliterated; the third, the erection of the huge Memorial, the whole aspect and style of which is utterly out of keeping with its surroundings.

Closely associated with Eton is the adjoining Royal Borough of Windsor, in which past generations of Etonians played so many wild pranks. The houses which formerly fringed the walls of the Castle have long disappeared, and on the other side of the road few ancient buildings remain. The queer old theatre and gabled buildings near “Damnation Corner” have been demolished within comparatively recent years. “Damnation Corner,” it is curious to recall, received its name from the fact that in the old “shirking” days it was extremely difficult for an Eton boy to avoid a master coming quickly round the corner.

[SN: A MONSTROUS ROOF]

During the last fifty years the whole appearance of Windsor Hill has been transformed, the hand of the restorer having not even spared the venerable curfew tower--now for some forty-eight years disfigured by a roof so monstrous in its ugliness that it stands forth as a surpassing and convincing proof of our national lack of artistic taste.

[SN: FUTILE PRATTLE]