Part 2

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.”

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: