Spinning-house, subs. (University).—The prison of the Vice-Chancellor’s court.
Spital Sermons (Christ’s Hospital).—Once the chief feature of the Easter festivities of this ancient foundation. See Appendix.
1834. Trollope, History of Christ’s Hospital [condensed and annotated by the editor of The Blue]. All Easter festivities connected with the School seem to be concentrated in the SPITAL SERMONS. The great antiquity of those discourses may be judged from the fact, that at the Easter following the foundation and opening of the School [1552], its members were present at St. Mary Spital. At this their first appearance at the Spital the boys appeared in that costume which, with the exception of the hats, still distinguishes them. A custom had long prevailed, according to which some learned person was appointed yearly by the Bishop of London to preach at Paul’s Cross on Good Friday on the Passion; and on the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday following, three others were appointed in like manner to uphold the doctrine of the Resurrection, at the Pulpit Cross in the Spital. On the Sunday following, a fifth preached at Paul’s Cross, passed judgment on the merits of those who had preceded him, and concluded the ceremony with an appropriate exhortation from himself. What this passing of judgment meant, and what purpose it served, is rather hard to decide. It would almost seem as if some prize or reward were offered for the best sermon. The SPITAL SERMONS are certainly the oldest institution of their kind in London, and probably in England. But they have naturally been subject to great changes. At first there were five, two at Paul’s Cross and three at St. Mary Spital. Many alterations followed; for instance, the Great Rebellion put an end for a time both to pulpit and sermons, until the Restoration, when they were revived, that is, the three SPITAL SERMONS proper (for the judge disappears) at St. Bride’s Church, which still stands in Fleet Street. Nothing interrupted them again until 1797, when the preachers once more were removed to Christ’s Church, where the SERMONS, now only two in number, have been regularly delivered, until within the memory of many still in the school [1890] the Corporation reduced their number to a minimum; and now one SPITAL SERMON instead of five is listened to, not at St. Mary Spital, or Paul’s Cross, or St. Bride’s, but at Christ Church, Newgate Street. Though the scene has not changed since 1797, the accompanying ceremony has been sadly mutilated. In my [Mr. Trollope’s] time, instead of the subjects which were wont to be discussed from the Pulpit Cross of St. Mary Spital, discourses were delivered commemorative of the five Sister Hospitals of Christ’s Hospital, St. Thomas’, St. Bartholomew’s, Bridewell, and Bethlehem. This feature has almost entirely disappeared; the reverend preachers now pass by, or casually mention, the original reason for their presence in the handsome pulpit of Christ Church. “On each day the boys of Christ’s Hospital, with the legend ‘He is risen’ attached to their left shoulder, form part of the Civic procession; walking on the first day in the order of their schools, the King’s boys bearing their nautical instruments.” [These King’s boys are, of course, the Mathemats, who seem in earlier days, before the development of the Classical side, and the chances of a University career, to have been the most prominent part of the School.] They assembled on Monday in the Square of the Royal Exchange, and on their return were joined by the Lord Mayor and Civic procession, with the ladies. On Tuesday they proceeded direct to the Mansion House; each boy received a new sixpence, each monitor a shilling, and each Grecian half a guinea. [It appears that Alderman Thomson, whose portrait hangs in the Hall, whose name is engraven on the walls of the Hospital, and to whom we owe the Classical and Mathematical Medals, doubled the donation in every case, and his successors have not returned to the original amount.] The boys were again followed by the Civic authorities, without the ladies, to Christ Church, where a Junior Bishop preached on Monday, and a clergyman selected by the Lord Mayor (usually his chaplain) on Tuesday. But the most interesting feature of all was that on both occasions an anthem composed by one of the Grecians, and set to music by the organist, was sung by the children.
Spite, verb (Winchester).—To hate: to dislike.
c. 1840. Mansfield, School-Life at Winchester (1866), 235. When a boy suffered some injury himself, in order to spite another person; or having in some way injured another, received punishment, he was said to be SPITING GABELL. Dr. Gabell was formerly Head-master, and the extreme inexpediency of attempting to annoy him gave rise to the proverb.
1891. Wrench, Winchester Word-Book, s.v. Spite. The word in Wykehamical usage generally connoted the frame of mind rather than the acts in which it finds expression. But the phrase “to SPITE Gabell” describes the act popularly known as “cutting off your nose to SPITE your face.”
Splice, verb (Winchester).—To throw; to fling: as a missile.
Sport, verb (Winchester).—To spread: as a baulk (or report); to wear: as clothes; to provide: as a feast; to indulge in: as smoking, walking, &c.—a general verb of action. Whence SPORTING ACTION = an affected manner, gesture, or gait, or betrayal of emotion. [Sport (var. dial.) = to show, to exhibit.]
Sportings, subs. (Charterhouse).—Clothes worn at the Exeat (q.v.).
1900. Tod, Charterhouse, p. 102. The splendour of Exeat garb defies description. It is enough to say that the Carthusian’s apparel then is as costly as his purse will buy, and that he calls it SPORTINGS.