Confessions of an Etonian

by I. E. M.

"And now," said he, pausing for a moment, "I am going to give you another licking for not being here in time."

"No," I exclaimed, "you have excused me a fortnight's fagging; at least, you said yesterday that you would, should I ask the King for a holiday to-morrow."

This was the truth, and so, in an unguarded moment, he had expressed himself; but being, at the least, as anxious for a holiday as he was, and sighing for a fortnight's emancipation from slavery, I had determined to take him at his word, and obey him to the letter. In a spirit, then, of excessive innocence, or impudence—I think the former, though I may have since exchanged it for the latter—I had started off for the cottage in Windsor Park, where the King was then residing, and had actually gained admittance without interruption from any one, though I was now accosted by a gentleman who demanded the purport of my visit. I replied that I had come up to ask the King to get us a holiday for Friday. Upon this, he informed me that it was not usual for strangers to see his Majesty while resident at the cottage, and that I had better wait until his Majesty returned to the Castle; and then he kindly walked back with me towards the garden, through which I had previously passed, and there left me. Here I met Jerningham walking with his mother, whom I acquainted with the object of my interview with the Duke of Dorset, as he proved to be. This happened to be a very fortunate rencontre for me, as Lady Jerningham eventually turned out to be my "friend at court," and had seconded my petition with success.

As the next day was a holiday entirely originating with myself, I concluded that I had a right to make the most of it, and enjoy it in my own way. Under this impression, Kennedy and I started at seven that morning, towards Perch-hole, where Lary Miller was to meet us with a punt and casting-net, and we were to fish our way down the river, towards Datchet. While awaiting him at the water's edge, among other inventions to amuse ourselves, Kennedy thoughtlessly snatching off my hat, set it floating on the water; so taking him by the collar, ere I had time to reflect, I swung him well into Perch-hole. The moment he scrambled out, there seemed to be no doubt on either side as to what was to be done. Indeed, it would be impossible to say which of us struck the first blow, though the question with us now was, who was to give the last. Perhaps any other boys, as soon as the first burst of passion had exploded, would have deferred the contest to another opportunity, when each might be attended by his second; but Kennedy breathed nothing but immediate retaliation, and probably he might wish to exercise himself after his immersion. I also preferred the present time, as, on giving the subject a momentary consideration, during the early period of the fight, it struck me as being most repugnant and ungrateful to my feelings, to meet my greatest friend in cool blood, to see which could batter the other the most, and that, too, only to glut the sight of hundreds.

In general, each battle at Eton is conducted with all the etiquette incidental to the prize-ring, under the latest regulations of the Birmingham Youth, or White-headed Bob. Indeed, one would here conclude that it was impossible to contend without a ring, seconds, and time-keeper. Notwithstanding the deficiency of these desiderata, we weaved merrily away for nearly an hour, during which period, perhaps from being the lightest, I was prostrated three times, which therefore divided the contest into but three stages or rounds, during which time each rested on the grass, and conscientiously recommenced our operations, the instant we imagined that the half-minute had expired.

The clock now struck a quarter-past nine, when we were reminded, that should we fight on, each would be well flogged for disregard of absence; and as our occupation was barely worth the penalty, we at once put on our jackets, and departed in silence, to answer to our names, while, as a matter of course, we were to finish the battle after twelve, for my holiday afforded us ample time.

This morning, therefore, for the first time, we breakfasted in different rooms. Each now commenced this repast with feelings far from cheerful. The anger of the moment having passed away, there remained no sense of enmity between us; and yet, in an hour or two, we were to meet again, like a couple of dogs, and mangle each other as we best might.

Kennedy could not but feel that he was not only the strongest, but had actually been more prevalent in the contest than myself; nor did he, on this account, congratulate himself, when he reflected that the appointed hour was fast approaching when he must do his best to thrash me still more. The sole thought that weighed on my mind, was that of having quarrelled with a fellow whom I liked far beyond myself. At this moment the door opened, and Kennedy, placing his rolls and butter on the table, stretched his hand across it towards me, and the next, we were sipping our tea together out of the pewter salt-cellar, with no farther traces of enmity, save the three unequivocal black eyes we retained between us.

This subject reminds me of a very melancholy one which I witnessed several years afterwards; and as I have heard it discussed so frequently, and so erroneously, I cannot help wishing, if possible, to give a concise and true statement of the case. In the instance alluded to, the contest might be said to have terminated with no unusual consequences, for the clock had struck the hour in which it was imperative for every one of us to be in his dames for the night, and the combatants were in the act of putting on their coats, and all would have been well, had not a voice, which I distinctly recollect, exclaimed, "One more round!" Whichever had now declined would have been considered as vanquished: they closed, struggled for the fall, and the fall was fatal. The sole cause of this miserable catastrophe was that voice of a mere bystander, and of this he must be as sensible as I am. I know not who he may be, nor do I envy him his secret.

It was now getting towards the latter end of July, and I had been an Etonian nearly three months. During this time I had experienced a fair average of fighting, bullying, fagging, and flogging, and had also acquired some useful accomplishments. I could paddle my skiff up to Surly Hall and back, swim across the river at Upper Hope, and had even begun to get in debt, having some weeks ago "gone tick" with Joe Hyde for a couple of bottles of ginger-beer, with the proviso of returning them when empty, but which, it must be confessed, were still lying at the bottom of Deadman's Hole, for the farther improvement of my diving.