CHAPTER XIII BALLIOL JOMMON TIME, 1883, found me at my second or third term in C sure of my remove into Sixth Book the next term. I was already fairly senior in my House and exercising authority there as a House Prefect, and my remove would have made me a Commoner Prefect, that most enviable of mortals. I should have had a last glorious term in summer with the school and all its surroundings looking their very best, with Eton Match to enjoy, and with a position of dignity and responsibility in the school. I should also have had the great advantage of more contact with Dr. Ridding. To all this I looked forward most eagerly loving Winchester as I did, and therefore, of course, P. L. decided against it. Jowett had no objection, and in the course of a running fight lasting several weeks, which I had with my guardians, both Ridding and Freddy struggled gallantly to help me, but in vain. If I was doing well at school, and if I actually had the audacity to be happy there, that showed that the public school system had finally corrupted me, and the sooner I was removed from its baneful influence the better. In a summary of the year 1888 in my Journal I find this bitter entry : 66 Quite at the beginning of the year my mind was racked, and my feelings harassed about my leaving Winchester, which caused me great mental anxiety and distress, manifesting itself in depression of spirits. I wrote some very bitter and forcible letters to Uncle Rollo, and Morshead and the Doctor took my part with the greatest readiness and were very kind. I spent my last term in hard work of every kind, and left with pleasant feelings from the school, but with the deepest sorrow to myself. I ended my school life on March 21, but stayed there for Easter with Mrs. Morshead and the Daker-a time which I enjoyed very much, though it was eerie to see all Commoners deserted. When I was at leisure I distracted my mind by constant occupation in my laboratory, and by writing a Notion Book for ultimate publication, with which I have taken some pains." This forcible ending of my school life before its time is one of the many things that I have never forgiven P. L. I was preparing for my entry to Oxford, and work could not of course be neglected, so they sent me to a private tutor at Limpsfield. A worse exchange for the healthy communal life at Winchester could not well be imagined. The man himself was vulgar and mean in spirit, and his wife, though kind, shared the same detestable middle-class gentility. The other pupils were the kind of thing that I imagine you always find at that kind of place. One, a young man of twenty, much too old to be there, with a doting mother, and far more money than was good for him; who showed how grown up he was by driving a high-wheeled gig, drinking in public-house bars, and talking about race meetings and probably kissing the girls, though I don't remember that part of it. Another, an equally uninteresting little swat to whom cramming meant bread and butter, and in contrast with him a boy almost mentally deficient. Then there was one at least of the type of boy who had been requested to leave his public school. The summary of my Journal says: "The men, the manners, and the G's were alike distasteful to me, and I was very fairly miserable. My kind friends at Winchester wrote me many letters, and the work was also a great relief." In particular I remember as a relief a very good mathematical master under whom I prospered, and advanced exceedingly. Indeed I even read the first bit of Todhunter's "Differential Calculus" by myself, and made headway with it. I liked mathematics immensely, and I was good at them, but of course they were killed dead by Oxford. I do not, however, regret this for I think the classical training is a far wider training from the human point of view. However, this may be merely the prejudice of an Oxford man. In the autumn of this year, 1888, my Uncle Rollo started a house at High Pitfold on Hindhead, and we all spent August and September there. I had a coach called Owen, and was, of course, cramming furiously for my Smalls. Judging from the records of this period I seem to have put in anything from eight to ten hours' work most days altogether with walks of anything from a stroll of five miles to a real walk of fifteen to eighteen. I wish I could do it now. In the intervals I was teaching the governess Miss Bühler to work the sounder telegraph. In October, 1883, I began my residence as an undergraduate at Balliol, under the famous Jowett. I had previously at the end of September been up for my Smalls and had my viva on October 5, of which I note: "The examiner put me on for about six lines of Iliad and asked me some questions, then said, 'Thank you, you have construed that very well-your papers are good throughout, I'll not keep you any longer,' whereat I rejoicingly departed." On October 10 I had my matriculation exam, and I heard that Jowett had expressed himself pleased with my papers, and had telegraphed home about it. I was actually matriculated on the 16th, and discovered the other day the certificate signed by Jowett, and stating that after having admonished me as to the Statutes he had admitted me as a member of the University. I trust that I always observed the Statutes-at any rate I can say with a clear conscience that I never played marbles on the steps of the Senate House. I had very nice rooms near the Gate on the fourth floor, and they were adequately furnished. I was assigned to Abbott as my tutor : the poor man had been a Blue in his time but had been paralysed in youth from the waist downwards, and had spent the rest of his life in a wheeled chair in which he could push himself about. He was both kind and competent, and our relations were always harmonious. Latin prose I did with Paravicini, who was then a funny little dried up man, and yet lived to just the other day. I went for Plato lectures to Warren of Magdalen; last night I met one of his undergraduates at dinner, and heard to my amazement that he is still President. Dr. Craddock who was the President of Brasenose had a wife who was some sort of indefinite Russell connexion, and they used to ask me to see them occasionally. George Brodrick, who used to write for The Times, and who was then Warden of Merton, was one of the kindest of men, and always a very good friend to me. He also had a charming niece who afterwards married Lyttleton Gell. J. W. Mackail, who has since become well known in London, gave lectures on Lucretius, which I attended. At first, of course, my principal acquaintances were Wykehamists, most of whom were to be found in New College, but the range was very quickly extended. People are sociable and hospitable at Oxford, and give a freshman an opportunity of meeting many people at breakfasts and other entertainments until he more or less settles down into his groove. There were naturally many people at Balliol who have since become distinguished; Younger, now a Judge, who was president of the College Debating Society, A. H. Hawkins, since better known as Anthony Hope, and J. A. Spender, since better known as the Editor of the Westminster Gazette. These were all Fourth Year men whose company we lost after one year. Our usual place of reunion was Spender's rooms after dinner, where he used to dispense much hospitable tea. In those days he used to be rather dreamy and abstracted, and not at all the active and distinguished man of affairs that he has since become. I recollect one occasion when intending to fill the teapot from his kettle he poured the hot water down his lamp chimney instead; with, as may be imagined, disastrous results. Among my earliest acquaintances of my own standing was Maurice Davies, one of the Llewellyn Davies, and charming and distinguished as all that family I understand that they all won scholarships, and entirely supported themselves from the age of ten with the single exception of Theodore, one of the most charming, who was regarded as a discredit to the family as he had only supported himself since the age of fourteen. His early death was a great loss to his friends. Of the eldest, Charles, now at the Treasury, it was reported that at some examination he had been put on to construe some Plato, and had done it so fluently that he was asked if he had read it before, and when he said "Yes," was given another passage. This he also did fluently, and confessed that he had read it before. The examiner in despair then asked him to take some Plato that he hadn't read, and he replied: "Oh, I have read all Plato." When one considers that Plato is almost as voluminous as Voltaire, this is no mean feat. Crompton Llewellyn Davies became Solicitor to the Post Office, and his sister, Margaret Llewellyn Davies, is well known in all progressive movements. However, to come back to Maurice among his excellent moral qualities he would never swear, and I recollect one occasion when, having spilled a cup of boiling tea over his leg, he got up hastily and merely said: "Dear me, how very unpleasant." Years afterwards, when we had both left Oxford, and he was with a shipping firm in Liverpool, he came to stay with me, and to my surprise damned freely. I addressed him with horror in the famous words of Dean Farrar: "Oh, Eric, that is the first time I ever heard you swear," to which he replied: “Oh, yes, you see I'm in shipping now, I had to learn it as part of the business." He had been at Marlborough, and was full of reminiscences of a master called Upcott; he also introduced me to Leonard Trelawney Hobhouse, of Corpus, who was from the same school. Then there were two men from Christ's Hospital, whose acquaintance I made, Osman Edwards, of Merton, and P. U. Henn, of Worcester. These were two of a group of four Christ's Hospital friends of whom the other two were at Cambridge; H. C. Marillier of Peterhouse, who now manages William Morris's business, and H. A. Roberts of Caius, whose younger brother was a medical student there, and whose elder brother was Senior Tutor, and afterwards became Master. Then there was another pair of school friends from Rugby, also divided between the two Universities; Charles Sayle of New College, who is now a Librarian at Cambridge, and Jack Badley of Trinity, who subsequently married Amy Garrett, and now runs the famous school of Bedales at Petersfield. He also had the distinction of being the Senior Classic of his Tripos among the men, but being beaten by Agnata Ramsay, who afterwards became the second wife of Dr. Butler of Trinity. Through these I became interested in a little Rugby school paper called The Leaflet, which had a precarious existence for some years. Among my Winchester friends was a man called Charlesworth at the House, but I soon ceased to see anything of him and indeed knew no one at the House except a Don called Dodgson, who is best known to fame as the author of those two delightful classics "Alice in Wonderland," and "Through the Looking-glass." Edgar Jepson, the novelist, was a member of my own year, and my own set at Balliol. In those days he posed as a determined pessimist, but he seems to have got over his pessimism in his youth. At New College I had one great friend called Ion Thynne, who was not a Wykehamist; he was the son of Lord Henry Thynne, and though, unhappily, he became addicted to drink, yet it did not prevent his being a perfectly charming companion, and a most amusing man. He founded a society called the "Cosmopolitan Unsectarian Purity Society," whose initials appropriately enough compressed themselves into the word C.U.P.S. It used to hold meetings once a week in his rooms under a vast Japanese umbrella at which there was generally a paper or a discussion. He had drawn up a set of the most marvellous rules, which unfortunately I no longer have by me, as I presented them to the Sette of Odde Volumes as a curiosity. One of them provided that the majority should have one vote and the minority should also have one vote, and in case of equality the President should have the casting vote: Ion Thynne was the President. Another provided that meetings might be held H |