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tongue of "Mellifluous Follett," was fatal to him. Rest might have saved him, but for him there was no rest. The weekly call must be answered, be it at what cost it may. The ordinary symptoms of an overtaxed brain began to show them

selves, his nervousness and sensibility became extreme, and that generous heart which had only felt too warmly, and prompted too open a hand for the relief of others, gave one agonising throb, and then ceased to beat for ever.

ETONIANA, ANCIENT AND MODERN.

CONCLUSION.

ANOTHER curious old Eton custom, of a much more barbarous character than the Montem, and wisely abolished at a much earlier date, was the "Hunting of the Ram." It is said that the college butcher was obliged, under some ancient agreement, to provide a ram annually to be hunted by the scholars on Election Saturday. On one occasion the unfortunate animal swam the river, and rushed into the crowded market-place at Windsor with the boys in full chase; and so much mischief and confusion was the consequence, that the hunting was from that time given up; but the victim was still provided, and despatched by a process quite as cruel, and which had not even the excuse of the popular excitement of a chase. After being ham-strung to prevent his escape, he was knocked on the head in the school-yard with clubs specially provided for the occasion.* The young Prince William (Duke of Cumberland) wielded a club, as an amateur, on one of these occasions:

"1730. Sat., Aug. 1, was celebrated at Eton the anniversary diversion of Hunting the Ram by the scholars. What made the ceremony the more remarkable was, that His R.H. Duke William was pleased to honour it with his presence. The captain of the school presented him with a ram-club, with which His Royal Highness struck the first stroke. H.R.H. was in at the death of the ram, and his club was bloodyed according to custom. There was after

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The green rugs, which have been mentioned among the festal decorations of Long Chamber, were a gift from the Duke to the collegers either at this or some subsequent visit.

The barbarous ceremony was abolished altogether in 1747; but Hugget asserts that the ram still made his appearance at the high table in pasties at the Election Monday dinner at the date of his writing, 1760.

Boating has for many generations been one of the most popular amusements at Eton, the neighbourhood offering what an American would call "water privileges" which no other school can boast. But, until a recent date, the river has been, in theory at least, forbidden ground. The boys would boat, of course, and did boat, systematically; but

* See the charge for a "ram-club" in Patrick's bill, p. 225, note.

the system was only winked at by the authorities. Few attempts were made, in fact, at any school, until very lately, to encourage or to methodise that valuable and needful adjunct to all mental training, active out-door exercise and amusement. The modern tendency is perhaps too much in the other direction. The reason of putting the river out of bounds was the danger incurred by boys who could not swim. The prohibition seemed justified by the number of accidents which really occurred. Boys were drowned from time to time, though not so often as might have been feared; amongst others, the young Earl of Waldegrave in 1794. Henry Angerstein was drowned at Surly in 1820, in the full sight of the crews of the long boats, there being among them no swimmer good enough or bold enough to jump in to save him. Afterwards the boating was partially recognised by the school authorities, and watermen were appointed, one of whom was to go in each of the lower boats, to prevent accidents as far as possible. At last, after the death of Charles Montagu, who was jerked out of a boat by the tow-rope of a barge and drowned in 1840, the idea suggested itself of opening the river to those, and those alone, who had attained such proficiency in swimming as to have a fair chance of saving themselves in case of an accident. The swimming-school was organised by Mr Evans (the "Dame"), in conjunction with Bishop Selwyn of New Zealand, who was then a private tutor at Eton, and had been one of the best swimmers and oarsmen* in the school. From that time forth the boats have been under the regular superintendence of one of the masters, and no fatal accident has occurred since. No boy is now allowed to go into a boat until he has passed an examination in swimming before a committee of masters at

*

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'Athens," or at Cuckoo Weir. Yet swimming has always been an Eton accomplishment, at least amongst the few; and it may be doubted whether the feats of earlier days could be surpassed now, with all the advantage of this special training. Fifty years ago, two boys floated on their backs all the way from Surly to "The Cobbler," below bridge; and it was no uncommon exploit to take "headers" from old Windsor bridge, especially on Sunday mornings, when the river was full, owing to the sluices being shut: an exhibition which would rather startle the Windsor and Eton public now.

There is but one school with which Eton has any opportunity of trying its real strength in an eightoared race. Harrow, Rugby, and Marlborough the only schools which approach in point of numbers-have no facilities for boats. Shrewsbury has a river, but the numbers there are too small to insure a good crew. Westminster alone has had any chance with Eton afloat, and in its better days made the contest pretty equal. Eton won the three first races in succession - in 1829, 1831, and 1836- but were beaten in their own water at Datchet the following year. King William IV. was present at the race, and the excitement was very great. His Majesty declared that the Eton boys lost it because Dr Hawtrey was there looking on. In this last race the boats were for the first time steered by their own coxswains, the lines having been hitherto taken by London watermen. The victory of 1847 at Putney left Eton the winners of five races out of nine. Owing to objections made by the authorities of both schools, the contest was not renewed until 1860, when Eton won again; indeed, of late years, the decreasing strength of Westminster has given them little chance against their opponents,

This excellence has been hereditary; his son, A. J. Selwyn, was stroke of the Cambridge University boat in 1863.

*

though the smaller school has still supplied a crew to pull a losing race with all the pluck of more successful days. For the last three or four years Eton has found a new antagonist in Radley College, who have pulled against them in fair style at Henley; but in this case, as in the case of Westminster, a crew picked out of 130 boys is necessarily overmatched in weight and strength by a school which has the choice of 800.

The "captain of the boats" is perhaps the greatest person in the school next to the head-master,-if, indeed, he does not rival that great authority in the estimation of the boys. The whole regulation of the boats, both as to the selection of the crew of the racing "eight," and of the "captains" of the several boats which form the Fourth of June procession, rests entirely with him; and as he has a great deal of this kind of patronage at his disposal, his influence is very considerable. The boat-crews are in some sort looked upon as the aristocracy of the school, and for this reason the position is an object of social ambition amongst the boys. So long as there were no public races, and the great field-day was the

men.

mere show on the Fourth of June, the selection of the crew of the first boat-the ten-oar-of which the captain always pulled stroke, was very much a matter of favouritism, and it was complained that it too often got into the hands of a clique. But since the contest with Westminster has been revived, and Eton has also put on a boat at the Henley Regatta, where they have had to try their strength against the Universities, a much fairer system of choice has necessarily prevailed, and the captain picks his crew from the best oarsmen in the school, without reference to the "set" in which they may be. The expenses of the amusement are very considerable— much more so than they need be. The old boat-builders have a sort of monopoly, and exorbitant charges of every kind are kept up by custom, which schoolboys are not apt to dispute. For this reason it has never hitherto been the custom for the King's scholars (who may be supposed, as a rule, to be the sons of less wealthy parents) to join the regular boats at all, with the exception of the "college four," which now forms part of the procession on the Fourth of June. A colleger, however, was in the "eight" last

* The rivalry between the two great schools was very marked in these earlier days. It breaks out continually in the writings both of Eton and Westminster George Hardinge, an Etonian heart and soul, cannot conceal his satisfaction that, during the eleven years of Barnard's rule at Eton, "the rival school, though a very excellent one, and more likely as being in the metropolis to obtain patronage, was stationary in its number and its fame." Dr Barnard himself, who had looked forward to a bishopric (which he is said to have lost by a political harangue against the Court at a Buckinghamshire election), was doubly mortified when his rival Markham," head-master of Westminster, got the mitre instead. Richard Cumberland, on the other hand, writing as an old Westminster, is jealous of the sunshine of royalty in which Etonians were just then rejoicing: "the vicinity of Windsor Castle," he says, "is of no benefit to the discipline and good order of Eton school." It had probably no great effect one way or the other; but George III. was a constant patron both of boys and masters. Dr Goodall, as has been said, had many qualifications for a courtier; and Langford, who was for a long time lower master, was such a favourite that the King used to send for him down to Weymouth to preach before him-to the considerable disgust, as was natural, of the non-Etonian divines of Weymouth. His Majesty took a considerable personal interest in the boys, and knew the most distinguished of them by name and sight. All people think highly of Eton-everybody praises Eton," he said to young De Quincey. He was hospitable to them, in his odd way. one occasion he sent to invite them in a body to the Terrace, and kept them all to supper-" remembering to forget" to extend the entertainment to the masters who had accompanied them, and who returned home in great dudgeon.

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year, for the first time in the annals of Eton boating; though the offer of a place has been made to one of their body before.

Since the glories of Montem have departed, the Fourth of June has taken its place as the great yearly festival of Etonians. It was instituted in commemoration of a visit of King George III., and is held on his birthday. It is the great trysting-day of Eton, when her sons gather from far and wide, young and old, great and small,- -no matter who or what, so long as they are old Etonians; that magic bond binds them all together as brothers, and levels for the time all distinctions of age or rank. The proceedings begin with the "Speeches," delivered in the Upper School at 12 noon before the provost, fellows, masters, and a large audience of the boys' friends. Selections from classical authors, ancient or modern, are recited by the Sixthform boys, who are dressed for the occasion in black swallow-tail coats, white ties, black knee-breeches and buckles, silk stockings, and pumps. Then follows the provost's luncheon, given in the college hall to the more distinguished visitors, while similar entertainments on a smaller scale are going on in the various tutors' and dames' houses. 3 o'clock there is full choral service in chapel. At 6 P.M. all hands adjourn to the Brocas, a large open meadow, to witness the great event of the day-the procession of the Boats to Surly Hall, a public-house of that name, on the right bank of the river, some three and a half miles from Windsor. The boats are divided into two classes-Upper and Lower. The Upper division consists of the Monarch ten-oar, the Victory, and the Prince of Wales, or, as it is more usually called, the Third Upper. The Lower boats are the Britannia, Dreadnought, Thetis, and St George; sometimes, when the number of aspirants to a place is larger than usual, an eighth boat, called the Defiance, is added. The collegers

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have also for some years put on a four-oar-latterly expanded into an eight-which follows in the procession. The flotilla is preceded by the Eton racing eight-oar, manned by the picked crew who are to contend at Putney or Henley. Each boat has its distinctive uniform. Formerly these were very fanciful-Greek pirates, or galleyslaves in silver chains, astonishing the quiet reaches of the Thames for the day. The crews of the Upper boats now wear dark-blue jackets and trousers, and straw hats with ribbons, displaying the name of the boats in gold letters; the coxswains are dressed in an admiral's uniform, with gold fittings, sword, and cocked-hat. The captain of each boat has an anchor and crown embroidered in gold on the left sleeve of his jacket. In the Lower boats, the crews wear trousers of white jean, and all ornaments and embroidery are in silver. Each boat carries a large silk flag in the stern. The procession is headed by a quaint old-fashioned boat (an Eton racingboat of primitive days) rowed by watermen, and conveying a military band. The scene at Boveney Locks is very striking; the boats, with their gay flags and costumes, crowded together in the narrow pass, make the locks appear carpeted with bright colours. Opposite to Surly Hall, a liberal display of good things, spread on tables on shore, awaits the arrival of the crewsthe Sixth-form alone being accommodated with a tent. After a few toasts, and as much champagne as can be fairly disposed of in a short time, the captain of the boats gives the word for all to re-embark, and the flotilla returns to Eton in the same order. This order, however, is by no means such as would delight the eye of a critical firstlieutenant in H.M. navy: singing, shouting, racing, and bumping, all go on together in the most harmonious confusion. This racing home (combined with the libations at Surly) caused a good deal of excitement in former days; and once

--some sixty years ago-the Dreadnought and Defiance having a dispute about a "bump," the two crews, steerers included, agreed to fight it out in the playing-fields afterwards, and were actually rang ing themselves in order of battle, when Goodall, then head-master, interposed, and stopped this last

resort.

The time-honoured custom of "sitting a boat" must here claim mention. Some old Etonian, of generous and festive disposition (generally an old "oar"), signifies to the captain of a boat his intention of presenting the crew with a certain quantity of champagne. In return he is entitled to be rowed up to Surly in the boat to which he presents the wine; he occupies the coxswain's seat, who kneels or stands behind him. This giver of good things is called, from this circumstance, a "sitter; and the question, "Who sits your boat?" or, "Have you a sitter?" is one of some interest, which may often be heard addressed to a captain. The seat of honour in the ten-oar is usually offered to some distinguished old Etonian. Mr Canning occupied it in 1824.*

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The boats, after their return through Windsor Bridge, turn and row two or three times round an eyot in the middle of the stream above the bridge. During this time a grand display of fireworks takes place on the eyot. The ringing of the fine old bells in the Curfew Tower, the cheering of the crews, and the brilliant-coloured fires which strike across the water and light up the dense masses of spectators along the bridge, the rafts, and the shore, produce an effect not easily forgotten. A pyrotechnic illumination of the college arms (displaying last year something meant to represent the "Eton eight" rowing solemnly beneath it)

concludes the ceremonies, and is the signal for the crews to land and march in jubilant disorder back to college. The crowds break and disappear, special trains dash off to their respective destinations, and the Fourth of June is over.

An almost identical fête takes place on "Election Saturday," the last Saturday in July, so called from being the day of the annual election to King's College. This, however, is now much shorn of its former glories. There used also to be certain rehearsals of the Fourth of June performances (called "checknights"), which took place every alternate Saturday in the boating season, when the crews rowed up to Surly in their uniform, and regaled themselves-the staple luxury being ducks and green pease. These suppers were open to much objec tion, and the custom has lately been done away with. Besides these show festivals, there are annual races on the river-silver oars being the prizes for pair-oars, and a silver cup for scullers.

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During the summer half-year, cricket is a formidable rival to the attractions of the river. Like rowing, it requires a good deal of time and practice, and very few boys excel in both. In fact, the school is divided into wet-bobs" and "dry-bobs" as they are called; the former devoting themselves to the boats, and the latter to the playingfields. Of course, a "dry-bob boats occasionally, and a "wet-bob" plays cricket, for his amusement; but each lays himself out for excellence in his special line.

Cricket began at Eton at least as early as at any public school, but its distant records are scanty. William Goldwin (who went off to King's in 1700, and was afterwards Fellow of Eton and Master of Bristol grammar school) published, amongst his "Musa Juveniles," in

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*No one entered more cordially into the spirit of these Eton reunions. At the Montem of the previous year he met Brougham, for the first time since their fracas in the House, and held out his hand to him, amidst the hearty applause of the crowd of bystanders.

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