A more improving occupation than chaffing tradesmen was reading books and papers at Ingalton Drake’s, the bookseller, who afterwards took over Williams’, where all the school books were sold. This establishment, owing to the good nature of the proprietor, was constantly thronged with a crowd of boys, who, seldom making any purchase, spent a good deal of time turning over the leaves of new books just fresh from London. The Times could also be read there. As a matter of fact, the boys were very careful not to hurt or dirty the books they took up or touched, and I do not think the owner of the establishment had reason to regret his kindliness, which was the means of many Etonians acquiring an insight into branches of knowledge which the school curriculum made no attempt to include. Many a pleasant and not uninstructive half-hour was passed here by boys to whom cut-and-dried lessons made no appeal.
HOISTING
The Eton traditions of three decades ago were not very many in number, most of them being concerned with minor points of dress, things which were to be done and were not to be done, and the like. Except hoisting, few old usages survived, though, no doubt, the opinions of many long-past generations still influenced the boys in their unwritten code of what was “scuggish” and what was not. Hoisting, I believe, still survives, though a very few years ago undue exuberance on the part of the boys nearly caused its abolition. At that time (1904-1905) the whole school would assemble along the wall on the evening of the School Pulling, which always takes place after Lord’s, and await the arrival of the members of “Pop,” who from Tap would walk arm-in-arm across the whole street to opposite their Club Room in the building of the old Christopher. They would then seize the winners of the School Pulling, and, according to traditional custom, run up and down along the wall with them, the whole school shouting at the top of their voices. If the eleven had won at Lord’s, or the eight at Henley, its members were also hoisted one by one. In the case of the School Pulling, the winners, after being hoisted, were taken to some prominent upper window in one of the houses which all could see, and water solemnly poured over their heads, the jugs and crockery being eventually thrown out into the street. This latter generally occurred just before Lock-up, all the boys being still out in the street. The end was that “Pop” canes were produced, arms linked, and everybody systematically driven into his tutor’s house. The ceremony of hoisting was not very popular with the public, for, in consequence of the noise, passing carts and carriages generally went by a good deal quicker than the drivers wished, and horses became alarmed, whilst no bicyclist was allowed to remain on his bicycle, every one who passed being booed or cheered. Thirty years ago the ceremony proceeded much in the same way, though there was more consideration shown to the drivers of horses which looked likely to become alarmed by noise; also the crockery-smashing ceremonial did not exist, and would have been resented had any attempt been made to institute it.
Like another custom of modern origin, “Lock-up Parade,” this very undesirable addition to hoisting has now been forbidden. Lock-up Parade, which did not exist in the writer’s Eton days, took place in the Summer Half, just before the hour of Lock-up, when the boys walked backwards and forwards within very narrow limits to the strains of musicians stationed outside “Tap.”
Eton College from the River.
From an old coloured print.
Tap is, if possible, more flourishing than ever, being, as of old, crowded on summer evenings. At such a time whilst the wet bobs on their way home from the Brocas fill it to overflowing, a number of swagger dry bobs also put in an appearance. In addition to the traditional refreshments procurable at Tap, chops, steaks, bread and cheese, beer and cider, coffee, chocolate, cakes, fruit, and other good things of the same kind may now be got there, with the result that it is also much frequented after twelve, though, of course, not by Lower boys, who are still excluded as of old. A modern Eton fashion is the giving of a breakfast under a tent in the garden of Tap during the summer term. This is a very “swagger” affair, most of “Pop” putting in an appearance. A few years ago, when some of the members of the Eton Society were more than usually vivacious in disposition, the return from Tap in the evening just before Lock-up was occasionally very noisy, top-hats flying about in all directions, and passers-by finding it difficult to proceed on their way without being playfully held up. At present, however, the summer evenings are once again peaceful as of yore—a happy state of affairs which should delight every true lover of Eton, for it is beneath the rays of a setting sun that the tranquil charm of the old red-brick walls and weather-beaten buildings makes itself especially felt. |SWINBURNE’S LINES| At this time of year is it, more than any other, that the crowning glory of the place—the playing fields fringed by the silver winding Thames—present such a superb scene of placid beauty, whilst College close by whispers from its towers “the last enchantment of the Middle Age.” No wonder that, in spite of altered ways and habits, the spirit fostered by such stately surroundings still remains alive—
Still the reaches of the river, still the light on field and hill,