It is almost needless to say that the bobbies, or policemen, suffered greatly at such times. In fact, a policeman was hardly to be seen without an expanded snowball or two on his greatcoat, and more than one might be sporting black eyes. As for catching the depredators, and running them in, this was out of the question. The running-in part would have been easy enough, but first they had to catch their hare,—there was the rub.
Well, school challenged school. The Grammar School, for example, dominated the Gordons, or Sillerton boys, with a rod of iron.
These boys, in those days, were the drollest-looking chaps it is possible to conceive. They used to march four deep, with a bit of a fife and drum band ahead of them; and, just imagine it, they were all dressed like little old men, in blue swallow-tailed coats, with brass buttons, knee-breeches, and broad Tam o’ Shanter bonnets.
Well, on days when the snow was making, the Grammar School lads would lie in wait for them, about three deep on each side of the street, and when they got the Gordons right between, oh, then the fun began, and soon waxed fast and furious. Some of the teachers, foolishly enough, would charge the Grammarians with their umbrellas. They were soon to be pitied; here and there you would see one of these well-dressed whiskered dons lying on his back, his umbrella torn to tatters, and snowballs alighting on his person from all directions, as if from a Maxim gun.
Meanwhile the Gordon ranks would be broken up, the music stopped, and after perhaps an ineffectual attempt at self-defence, Sillerton would be demoralised and flying for safety in all directions.
But there were other schools that would meet the Grammar School at times. I have known them meet by challenge by the Denburn side, and a fine afternoon’s fight be the result.
Then there used to be a manufactory where the workers were terrible roughs, namely, “the comb-work chaps,” as they were called. As a rule, the Grammar School steered clear of these. They were bad to beat, and there was no honour or glory in beating them. Besides, they used to put stones inside their snowballs.
Sometimes bands of sailor boys used to come up from the shipping in the harbour to engage the Grammar School in a pitched battle, and all up and down the school-hill the fight would rage sometimes for hours.
Once I remember the Grammar School was being badly beaten by the comb-work chaps. Many had received ugly cuts in their faces with stoned snowballs.
The school lads were almost demoralised, and making a running fight of it towards their own quad. But help was at hand. A band of red gowns had heard of the brutality of those roughs, and now they managed to outflank the cowardly ruffians, while the Grammar School boys rallied once again and attacked them from the front.