In rounding the great sweep of the river below the London and South Western railway bridge, we catch at once the pinnacles of Eton chapel—most glorious of chapels—and see the green playing fields.
The long tree-covered island of Romney, on one side of which lies the lock, ends in a terrible "snout," strengthened by "camp-shedding." This point is locally known as the "Cobbler," and is a source of peril to many an inexperienced boatman.
ETON CHAPEL FROM THE FIELDS
The bridge over the river can, unfortunately, hardly be called a good feature in the landscape—it is as ugly as a railway bridge! Just above it is a row of boat-houses, and then follows the Brocas, the famous meadow. Above the bridge is a tiny islet which serves as an objective in the Fourth of June procession of boats. The boats come down and round the island, and once more returning, pass under the bridge to the lock, having made a sort of spiral. Nearly all the Eton races are rowed in this strip of the river, though, of course, Henley Regatta is the greatest event in the boating calendar. A small string of islands faces some little public gardens, and away northward winds the Great Western Railway on a series of small arches which carry it over the marshy ground, no doubt at one time under water.
Beyond the line is a small backwater known as Cuckoo weir, the bathing place of the lower boys. Here the swimming trials take place, when a set of trembling pink youngsters stand in a punt ready to take a graceful header, or, from sheer nervousness, to fall with an ugly flop smack upon the water and be disqualified for the time being!
The bathing place of the upper boys, called by the dignified title of Athens, is further up in the main river, near the curious island on which is Windsor racecourse. The river winds giddily in and out between the end of this island and Upper and Lower Hope, which lie between it and Cuckoo weir. A mill stands at the end of the long narrow stream that separates the racecourse from the mainland, and on the other side of the island is Boveney Lock. The quaint old chapel stands amid trees further up.
Above the island was once Surley Hall, a favourite resort of the Etonians, but it is now pulled down, and Monkey Island is the place to go to on half-holidays. Monkey Island is a good way up, and is the third of a row of islands. The little one below it, called Queen's ait, now belongs to the Eton boys, who have built a small cottage on it. Monkey Island itself is a curious and attractive place, except when the launches come up from Windsor on Saturdays, bringing hundreds of people, who sit about at little tables on the green sward under the famous walnut trees, and call for refreshments. There is a large pavilion, part boat-house, which belongs to the Eton boys, where they can get tea served without mingling with the townspeople. Near it is a quaint little temple. This, as well as the house, now the hotel, was built by the third Duke of Marlborough, a man of curious taste. The hall in the hotel is painted all round with the figures of monkeys engaged in various sports and pastimes. There is a broad frieze which appears to have been executed in water colours on plaster; the ceiling is likewise painted, but in rather a different style. The monkeys are a good size, and attract a vast crowd of visitors. The pretty verandah round the hotel redeems its appearance externally. Inside it has at once all the attractions and disadvantages of an old house—low ceilings, very small rooms; but on the other hand there are windings and twistings, crooked passages and odd corners, that delight the heart of those to whom machine-made houses are an abomination. The duke's bedroom is shown, and is as queerly shaped a room as ever mortal man conceived. Monkey Island is being embanked with the precious gravel dredged from the bed of the Thames, and, though no doubt a necessary precaution, as the river insidiously breaks off what it can, the operation is not a beautiful one. The island is very proud of its walnut trees, and well it may be, for they are a great change after the ubiquitous willows, and their gnarled stems and fine shady leaves are just the right element in such a scene as a gay lawn covered with summer folk in summer dresses.
From Monkey Island the little church tower of Bray can be seen, but before reaching it Bray Lock has to be negotiated, and here are a long sinuous osier-covered ait and a mill, making, as usual, a convenient backwater.