In his relations with the boys Dr. Hornby was ever a great gentleman, as the following incident, which occurred during the writer’s Eton days, will show. Two of the sons of a celebrated potentate were then at the school, and Queen Victoria took the warmest interest in them; the eldest, in particular, was a great favourite of hers. One day, owing to some untruthfulness in connection with work, this young Prince was complained of, and though he might have got off by claiming “first fault” owing to forgetfulness, was soundly swished. At the same time he received a severe, though kindly lecture, in which the “Head” pointed out how such behaviour would pain his parents and the Queen, were it ever to reach her ears. Curiously enough, that very evening Dr. Hornby happened to be dining at Windsor, and as usual his Royal hostess did not fail to make particular inquiry as to how her protégé was getting on. What was the surprise of the young Prince during the following morning to find himself once again summoned to the “library,” and as he wended his way to the grim scene of correction, he wondered what he could have done to be whipped again so soon. All unpleasant anticipations were, however, quickly dispelled. In those gently modulated tones which so many old Etonians will remember, Dr. Hornby described how, on the previous evening, a certain great lady had asked after her favourite Eton boy, and desired to be informed as to how he had been getting on in the school. “I told you yesterday,” Dr. Hornby went on to say, “that one lie always leads to another, and I am sorry to say in the present instance this adage has not failed to hold good, for,” added he, “I am ashamed to say that, instead of telling Her Majesty of the disgraceful behaviour for which but a few hours before I had been obliged to punish you, I said that you were getting on very well. Under these circumstances I feel sure that you will do all you can to give no further trouble, and so, by causing my words to come true, make amends for the falsehoods which we have both of us uttered.” The kindly admonition made a considerable impression upon the culprit’s mind. Nevertheless, he could not help being amused when the next Sunday, in Chapel, he heard the Doctor take as his text, “All men are liars.”
In appearance Dr. Hornby was the absolutely perfect type of an Eton Headmaster. Immaculately dressed, and of fine presence, he possessed a natural dignity which even impressed boys totally lacking in reverence for all other institutions of the school. His voice, low and not unpleasant even when delivering a stem admonition, was essentially the voice of an English gentleman of the fine old school. It was a real pleasure to hear him call “Absence,” owing to the dignity which he imparted to this tedious duty. Curiously enough, this Headmaster, who in his latter years, at least, might have been called the incarnation of the best kind of Eton Conservatism, had on his appointment been regarded as a Radical. The first Oppidan, I believe, ever chosen Headmaster, he had succeeded Dr. Balston in 1868, when the latter had relinquished the post from disapproval of the various innovations and changes which resulted from the recommendations of the Public School Commission, the labours of which extended over seven years.
The growing worship of athleticism was in some measure responsible for the appointment of the new Headmaster, though Dr. Hornby, besides having been in the eleven, was also a fine scholar. When he first came to Eton the school, used to the patriarchal sway of his predecessor, who had strictly followed the traditions of the past, were rather inclined to regard him as a dangerous reformer, but before long it was realised that such Radical proclivities as the new Headmaster possessed were not very likely seriously to impair the traditional round of Eton life, and the school gradually subsided into a tranquil consciousness that nothing outrageous would be perpetrated under the new “Head,” who long before his retirement grew to be far more Conservative than some of his subordinates; indeed, during his tenure of the Headmastership, which lasted sixteen years, four Assistant Masters are said to have left Eton owing to Dr. Hornby disapproving of some of their ideas. One of these exiles was young Mr. Joynes, whose socialistic tendencies obviously unfitted him for the post of an Eton master; another, Mr. Oscar Browning, whose clever and genial personality is so well known to numbers of old Etonians.
DR. BALSTON
Dr. Balston remained at Eton as Vice-Provost, and I remember that we regarded him with a good deal of sympathy as having preferred to resign rather than to yield to meddling on the part of the governing body, then still looked upon as rather a new-fangled affair. During his short term of office he had refused to sanction any alterations at all. Possessed of an unlimited respect for old traditions and ways, his conception of a Headmaster was that he should exercise a sort of dignified and patriarchal sway, whilst carrying out a solemn trust to maintain things as they had always been. Whilst Head he had borne himself with unbending dignity, being almost never seen out of academic dress, in which, it was said, he even went to bed. The same story, I believe, had been current in the days when Dr. Goodford, familiarly known as “Old Goody,” ruled the school. Some indeed declared that a gown and cassock were all he wore. As Provost, however, the latter was seen about Eton in ordinary costume and invariably carrying an umbrella. A quaint, queer figure this survivor of a past era looked with his hat at the back of his head and hands covered with unbuttoned black gloves much too big for him.
At that time the old Fellows who were still alive used to preach the most lengthy and incomprehensible sermons in Chapel, but in that line Dr. Goodford easily held his own against all. Owing to a peculiar intonation, his mouth always seemed to be full of pebbles, and it was practically impossible to make out one sentence of the vast number which trickled from his lips. Nevertheless we rather liked the good old man, whose curious sing-song induced sleep rather than irritation. Dr. Goodford’s entry into Chapel with the aged verger, who on account of the silver wand he bore was called the “Holy Poker,” was a thing which many Etonians will recall to mind.
Amongst the Assistant Masters of some thirty years ago, about the most conspicuous figure, owing to a long flowing beard, was the Rev. C. C. James, for some reason or other known as “Stiggins.” He enjoyed no great measure of popularity out of his house, where, it should be added, he fed his boys better than almost any other tutor or dame. At one period of his career he had narrowly escaped being thrown over Barnes Pool Bridge by a riotous party of boys, and though no one seemed to know the exact reason of this, with later generations it undoubtedly led to his being regarded with a certain rather unjust suspicion.
“BADGER HALE”
A far more sympathetic figure was the Rev. E. Hale, known to the boys as “Badger Hale,” probably on account of his hair bearing some remote resemblance to the coat of that animal. Besides being a cleric, Mr. Hale was an officer of the Eton Volunteers. He was of great girth, and when in uniform presented a really stupendous appearance, in which the boys took great delight. At that time the Volunteers were perhaps not taken so seriously as is the present Officers’ Training Corps, with its more workman-like appearance and ways. Though there were occasional field-days, the principal evolution of the 2nd Bucks was to march, headed by its band, to the playing-fields. Founded in 1860, by the late ’seventies it had abandoned a good deal of its splendours, blue worsted cord having taken the place of the original silver lace, whilst the colours presented by Mrs. Goodford had ceased to be carried, the Eton Volunteers being at that time a rifle corps. Now, however, that it has become the Officers’ Training Corps, they have once more been taken into use. The silver bugle given by Lady Carrington is presumably still carried.