DR. WARRE
The chief support of the Corps has always been its present Honorary Colonel, the Rev. E. Warre, now Provost of Eton, who for many years took a most active part in striving to maintain its well-being and efficiency. Few have done so much for Eton as he; his whole life, indeed, has been devoted to furthering the best interests of the school. As an Assistant Master he was the avowed champion of strenuousness and efficiency, whilst opposed to old ways and traditions tending towards a slack state of affairs. A strong and dominating personality, he was intensely popular with the boys in his own house, but a good part of the school regarded him with a certain amount of suspicion as entertaining revolutionary ideas, which it was said were only kept in check by the firmness of Dr. Hornby, who in the last days of his Headmastership was looked upon as the staunch defender and champion of old Eton ways. In the minds of ultra-conservative Etonians Dr. Hornby stood for Conservatism, as Dr. Warre did for change. Such an estimate was not altogether without foundation, for after Dr. Warre had succeeded to the supreme control of the school, a number of alterations, some of them, no doubt, quite necessary, were made. The general feeling amongst Eton boys at that time was Tory in the extreme, and though we knew scarcely anything about him except that he had flogged a good deal, I am sure that a great many of us would have been delighted to hear that Dr. Keate, having returned to life, had been entrusted with the task of reorganising the school with a view to getting it back into the condition of the good old days.
On the whole the reforms made by Dr. Warre during his Headmastership seem to have produced satisfactory results. Most of them dealt with alterations in the scholastic curriculum of the school, all the old customs open to criticism, such as “Oppidan Dinner,” having long disappeared. Without doubt, under his rule the boys were made to work harder than before, whilst its tone gained in manliness and vigour. At the same time the traditional spirit of Eton remained unimpaired, and before his retirement Dr. Warre, like his predecessors, had come to be considered a bulwark of Eton Conservatism.
The Headmastership of the school would appear to have a sobering tendency upon even the most advanced reformer, who at the end of his term of office has generally lost his enthusiasm for innovation and change. The present Headmaster is a case in point. When he came to Eton a few years ago many were full of gloomy forebodings as to the reforms he was about to make. Mr. Lyttelton was known to hold a number of advanced views—rumour indeed declared that he would try and force vegetarianism upon the boys and would make them wear Jaeger underclothing, for which material he was declared to have a marked partiality. On assuming office, however, he somewhat allayed these fears by giving an address in which he announced that he was not going to stop tap, interfere with clothing, or abolish the beagles, to which he had been declared hostile. As a matter of fact, nothing could have been more loyal than his behaviour in this latter respect, for, far from discouraging the Eton Hunt, he has defended it against the ridiculous attacks of various faddists and cranks. It is, however, to be regretted that an agitator was two years ago allowed to address the school on the subject of unemployment from the Chapel steps in the school-yard. The vast majority of the parents of Eton boys do not wish their sons to be taught Socialism, and the school-yard, so closely connected with the old traditions of Eton, is the very last place where any theories of this kind should be permitted to be aired. As a matter of fact, the address, which under no circumstances could have done good, merely provoked giggling. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that in permitting such an innovation the Headmaster was merely animated by that new spirit of philanthropy and altruism which seems to have found a more useful form of expression in the Eton Mission, now, according to all accounts, doing excellent work in Hackney Wick.
INCREASE OF INTERFERENCE
All things considered, Mr. Lyttelton has been a more successful Headmaster than many old Etonians expected, and has not made any violent effort to interfere with the traditions of the school. Life at Eton, however, without doubt is now more strenuous than of yore. Leave has been greatly curtailed, having to be taken at an appointed time. Besides this, of late a tendency seems to have arisen to exercise more control over the boys in minor matters, as to which in former days the authorities never thought of interfering. From time immemorial it has been the privilege of members of “Pop” to sit on the low wall by the trees, planted in 1753, especially on Sunday; a recent regulation forbids any boy, whether belonging to “Pop” or not, from sitting on the wall on Sunday. The reason for such a vexatious interference with an old Eton custom is difficult to divine. A more reasonable exercise of influence by the Headmaster has been his attempt to get the boys when in Chapel to abstain from keeping their hands in their pockets when standing up during the service. Such a practice is not forbidden, but an address on the subject by Mr. Lyttelton is said to have produced a great effect.
On the whole the masters of to-day would appear to possess more influence with the boys than was the case in the past. Now, as then, the most popular are those who are gentlemen—that is, using the word in its best and proper sense. At the present time, owing to the increased worship of athletics, proficiency at games is a powerful factor in a master’s popularity, and genial eccentricity is also apt to cause him to be liked; but fads, on the other hand, are not attractive to boys, which makes it all the more remarkable that the present Headmaster—a professed vegetarian—should have attained a fair measure of success in presiding over the school. No doubt his fine record as an athlete has had a good deal to do with this.
In the ’seventies of the last century the attitude of Eton boys towards the “Beaks” (they are, I understand, called Ushers now), whilst not actively hostile, was for the most part one of tolerant indifference. A few of the masters, however, were on fairly intimate terms with certain of the Upper boys, but the majority of the school knew and cared little about those responsible for its education. Respect for constituted authority has never been a salient characteristic of Eton boys, and amongst the junior members of the school at least “drawing the beaks” was then considered quite a legitimate form of amusement. A previous generation, according to all accounts, found a never-failing source of delight in lawless doings of this sort, whilst even Sixth Form occasionally took advantage of the good-nature of Dr. Hawtrey, the most urbane Headmaster, it is said, who ever wielded a birch.
Like his subordinates, he seems to have been not infrequently exposed to attempts at “drawing” by his division. These, however, he generally treated with good-humoured contempt. During one eleven-o’clock school they once all became suddenly absorbed in the contemplation of the rose from which was suspended one of the chandeliers of Upper School, and, nudging one another, indulged in mysterious whispers, which eventually caused Hawtrey to look up and ask, “Why, whatever is the matter?” “First of April, sir,” was the reply, but the Headmaster remained unmoved, and merely murmuring, “Silly boys,” bade one of them proceed with their construing.
“SOMEONE MUST BE LAST”