Chapter 62 of 71 · 3865 words · ~19 min read

Part 62

When a boy goes to his Public School for the first time, he is overawed by the mass of customs and unwritten laws which insist upon his doing one thing and forbid him to do another. Although some of them may strike him as absurd, being merely survivals of a practice of which the use no longer exists, he will come to learn that the life of a school is bound up in its traditions, and will cherish them accordingly. He will first discover that the home estimate and school estimate of his capacities are very different, that he is, in fact, a nonentity. When he has recovered from the shock of this discovery, he will set himself to find out—or more probably he will learn instinctively—what is or is not sanctioned by the public opinion of the school, what he may do or say. As the “tone” of the place largely depends upon the discipline, which is shared by the masters with the bigger boys, who—from their position in the school or from their athletic and other qualifications—are chosen as præfects, monitors or præpostere, it is easy to perceive how essentially bound up together are these various branches of school training.

As regards education in its more restricted sense, many would have us believe that too great prominence is given to games, and that the school-boy’s great ambition is to get into the Eleven or Fifteen, whilst success at work is, in his opinion, of very secondary importance. It is argued—with some justification—that it is of no use in the battle of life to be a good cricketer or a good footballer; that education needs to be more practical and scientific; that it must, in fact, move with the times; and although it may be highly edifying to be able to write good Latin verses, or to read Greek plays at sight, such things have little real value in the twentieth century. Shakespeare, indeed, tells us that he had “small Latin and no Greek,” yet his education does not seem to have materially suffered. It may be of more practical use to a boy to have a thorough knowledge of French and German, for example—a knowledge which may be more easily acquired by a sojourn of two or three years in France or Germany—than the somewhat elementary acquaintance with the Classics which frequently represents the sum total of school education; but to say that the British boy—as boy—would be improved by spending the last two or three years of his school-life abroad is something amounting to sacrilege. It must not be forgotten that at all the big Public Schools there is an adequate “Army Side,” where boys are coached for Woolwich or Sandhurst; here, at least, the teaching is eminently practical for the end in view. There is, moreover, a “Modern” or “Civil Side,” where the theoretical work is often supplemented by practical work in the laboratories and workshops. Those parents, therefore, who cavil at the classical education, have only to put their boys on the Modern side, where the time devoted to Classics is more in proportion to the other subjects.

In the matter of education, the Public Schools labour under this disadvantage, that the parents have frequently not decided what their boy is to be, or what particular line his studies are to follow. Most parents are naturally anxious that the boy should choose his own career for himself, whilst the majority of boys are quite unable to do any such thing, never quite knowing their own mind for more than two days together. But in these days of competition it is essential that a boy should specialise, almost from the beginning; and the sooner his mind is made up, either by himself or by those responsible for him, the better it will be for his studies. It is no uncommon thing for a boy to learn Greek for a few terms, then drop it and go on the Modern side, and subsequently take it up again in order to pass Responsions or Little Go, after which he frequently drops it again. The human faculty of forgetting being far more highly developed than the power of remembering, it is obvious that this sort of “see-saw” learning can have little educational value, but it is through no fault of the Public Schools that such things occur. Most parents are convinced that their boy or boys must have a deal of latent talent, which they consider it the duty of the master to discover; hence, the latter are often faced with the problem of making bricks without straw, and the result is that the boy acquires a smattering of endless subjects without attaining a thorough knowledge of anything. If, on the other hand, the course of a boy’s studies has been decided upon, his mind need not be hampered with useless and imperfectly acquired information, and much valuable time can thus be devoted to the subjects which are necessary for his purpose. There are subjects, it is true, which do not seem to be of any practical value, yet which cannot well be dispensed with. Many boys cry out about geometry, for example, forgetful of the fact that this is a form of mental exercise which, in the majority of cases, must have the most beneficial effect, although they are glad enough to waste hours in the laboratories, doing what is euphemistically called “Practical Chemistry,” a branch of study to which the old adage about “a little knowledge” most emphatically applies. If it is intended that a boy shall follow a scientific career, let him, by all means, make a good use of the excellent laboratories which all the big schools possess; but for the ordinary boy it is advisable to limit his subjects as much as possible. There are subjects with which some boys can never grapple. It is useless, for example, for a boy who has no mathematical capacity to struggle with the difficulties of higher mathematics; and whereas one boy may have the “ear” for foreign languages, another is probably wasting his time in attempting to learn them. It is, therefore, advisable that as few subjects as possible should be made compulsory, and that a boy’s whole energy should be concentrated on those subjects for which he shows some aptitude or which are essential to the end he has in view; and that the system of general education—which theoretically develops the mind by a diversity of study, but which practically leaves the boy a “Jack of all trades, master of none”—should, in certain cases, give way to a more special treatment. This is not meant to advocate a system of cramming, which is foreign to the principles of the Public Schools, but is rather a suggestion that the system of education should be adapted to the somewhat limited capabilities of the average school-boy.

At most Public Schools a full day’s work is about six and a half or seven hours in school, with an hour or an hour and a half for preparation. At some schools, Harrow and Rugby, for example, all the boys are provided with studies, but at the majority of schools these are reserved for the privileged few. At Eton it has been the custom to divide the day’s work up into a variety of short periods, in order that boys may not be compelled to sit at their books for too long a time. This enables boys, for example, to play football in the morning, which is quite a common practice at some of the schools in Scotland, whilst at Winchester and Clifton football is played in the morning on whole school days; but the majority of schools prefer to break the back of the work before dinner. Wednesdays and Saturdays are usually half holidays, though Tuesday and Thursday are “half remedies” at Winchester, whilst Thursday is frequently a whole holiday at Harrow. At a few schools, red-letter Saints’ Days are observed as whole holidays. Sunday at the Public School is not a day of rest. Perhaps with the idea that the only way to keep boys out of mischief is to keep them employed, they do not have a great deal of time to themselves. It is no uncommon thing for boys to have Chapel three and, occasionally, four times on the Sunday, with a scripture lesson in the course of the day, whilst at some schools, where walks are permitted, the boys have frequently to return for “call-over” in the middle of the afternoon. The late headmaster of one of our greatest Public Schools stated that, although he had received many letters referring to the boys’ work and games, he had never had any with reference to religious training. This may have been due to indifference on the part of the parents, but more probably to the certain knowledge that there was no danger of this side of the boy’s education being neglected. Nearly every big school has its chapel. Rugby Chapel has been immortalised by Matthew Arnold, whilst many persons are familiar with the Chapel at Eton. Winchester Chapel, once a gem of Gothic architecture, has been deprived of almost every claim to beauty by the hand of the restorer. In the choir are the eighteen old “Miserere” seats, so contrived that, if the occupant went to sleep, they tilted over and deposited him on the ground. At Charterhouse the Chapel is built of white stone, like the rest of the school. The seats face north and south, and the choir seats are in the centre of the building, which is peculiar. Clifton College is very proud of the reredos in its chapel, which is a very fine mosaic. The first of the “School Laws” at Winchester refers to behaviour in Chapel:—

Deus colitor.—Worship God.

Preces cum pio animi affectu peraguntor.—Say your prayers in a pious frame of mind.

Oculi ne vagantor.—Let not your eyes wander about.

Silentium esto.—Keep silence.

Nihil profanum legitor.—Read nothing profane.

We thus see that the moral training of the boy is the first consideration at the Public School. Carlyle would have us believe that work is the only guarantee of happiness for a man, but for a boy it is different. He must have so many hours enjoyment every day to keep his mind and body in a healthy condition; and so it is that every Public School encourages and fosters those games and pastimes which take such a prominent place in our national life, and which contribute so enormously to the physique of our boys. Space, forbids anything but a passing mention of these games and customs, which play such an important part in the life of the English school-boy. Suffice it to notice that with the increased interest which has been taken in athletics and in the physical development of the boys, more attention has been bestowed upon their feeding and general health, and thus one of the greatest reproaches has been removed from the Public Schools. Nevertheless, the “tuck-shop” still figures large at most big schools, and the average boy prefers the dainties there supplied, however unwholesome, to the simple but wholesome food with which he is now provided. It is, however, worthy of notice that the “tuck-shop” has advanced with the times. At Harrow, hot sausages and boiled eggs are supplied, whilst at Haileybury loaves of bread, with the most delicious fresh butter, were obtainable. Except from the smaller boys, there is less demand for sweets and confections than there used to be. The old idea of large dormitories, with twenty or thirty boys in them, though it has much to recommend it from a disciplinary point of view, has generally given way to smaller rooms with three or four beds in them. Thus if any epidemic arises there is less fear of infection. At Harrow the boys sleep in their studies, the beds and bedsteads being folded back into a kind of cupboard during the day. At some schools boys are allowed to “brew” in their studies, which therefore may be differently regarded as workroom, bedroom, or kitchen, according to the hour of the day or the occupation of the owner.

In conclusion, it may be said that the average parent does not send his or her boy to school simply and solely to learn his books, but to make a man of him. It is this side of Public School education which calls forth our greatest admiration. The constant companionship of other boys, the hardening effect of games and sports, the observance of custom and the discipline of the school, these and other things help to rub the corners off a boy, to “lick him into shape,” and—if he has anything in him—to make a Briton of him. The Public Schools have justified their system of education in the past by the men whom they have educated and sent out into the world; and although they are, for the most part, very conservative bodies, they are doubtless fully alive to the needs of the moment, and will continue to perform their indispensable service to society by producing a class of men of which any nation might well be proud, with possibly, in the future, a little more practical knowledge than the majority of Public School boys have hitherto possessed.

MAGISTER.

Successful Steeplechase Sires.

A steeplechasing season somewhat lacking in interesting features has just about concluded at the time of writing. After the Liverpool Grand National the average racegoer says farewell to National Hunt racing with no poignant feelings of regret; but the season is by no means ended at that point for owners and others immediately concerned in steeplechase horses. The multitudinous Easter gatherings keep them tolerably busy, and jumpers which have gone the dreary round of the small winter meetings are brought out again in April and May in the hope of adding another race or two to the winning record. For the better-class horses there is the Manchester Meeting, with a stake second only in importance to the Grand National, while in Ireland steeplechasing cannot be counted as finished until the Punchestown Races have been run.

This season there was a fairly satisfactory influx of good-class flat-racers to the National Hunt arena, among them being Sandboy, Rydal Head, Amersham, Prince Royal, Vril, Lancashire, Therapia, and Crepuscule. In the long run, the action of the National Hunt Committee rather more than a year ago in raising the value of stakes at meetings claiming several dates on the fixture list, is bound to assist the progress of winter racing. Those who have read previous articles in these pages by the present writer will remember that he has invariably joined sides with those who advocate that no event under National Hunt Rules—with the exception of races at the genuine hunt meetings, claiming only a single day each season—should be of smaller value than £100. The suggestion has invariably encountered a great deal of opposition, the chief objection usually being that only the best enclosure meetings could afford to frame their programmes on these lines, and, consequently, sundry country gatherings that provide sport for many people would be obliged, figuratively speaking, to put up their shutters owing to lack of funds.

In reply to this argument, one can only urge that the steeplechase fixture list is greatly overcrowded, and if some of the less substantial meetings did go to the wall, so much the better for sport. This, I must grant, is a ruthless line of reasoning, but I hold that, if steeplechasing is to prosper, it is necessary to maintain the public interest, and that can never be done by a lot of twopenny-halfpenny meetings, whose importance—such as it is—is purely local. More quality, and fewer leather-flapping meetings, should be the object of all interested in the future of steeplechasing. It is only reasonable to assume that the more races there were worth running for, the more would high-class horses be put to jumping. New owners would take up winter racing with the knowledge that there were plenty of good stakes to be won, and the public would be attracted, in far greater numbers than at present, to see an improved type of steeplechaser and hurdle-racer. The National Hunt Committee have gone some way towards bringing about this improvement by the introduction of the rule regulating the amount of stake-money at certain meetings, and I hope for further legislation in the same direction within the next few years.

[Illustration:

RED PRINCE II.

_Photo by W. A. Rouch and Co._] ]

The day may dawn, as I have suggested before, when breeders of blood-stock may consider it worth their while to breed specially for National Hunt racing, but at present there is not a great deal of encouragement to do so. It is interesting, nevertheless, to see how the best steeplechase winners each season are bred, and breeders of hunter stock can always learn something from a study of the pedigrees of prominent performers under National Hunt Rules. They know by this time, for example, that if you want to breed a jumper you are tolerably safe in using a suitable stallion with plenty of Newminster blood in his veins. They know, too, that the descendants of Birdcatcher, particularly through the Stockwell and Sterling channels, can get valuable steeplechasing stock; while the Blacklock blood, so powerful nowadays on the flat, has also claimed its share of cross-country successes, though we have yet to see a stallion of the Galopin tribe sire a Grand National winner. In this connection, it is worthy of note, the Birdcatcher line has claimed a Grand National winner four times during the last decade, namely, Manifesto (twice), Drogheda, and Ambush II., while the Touchstone line has had only two successes, Drumcree and Ascetic’s Silver. But while the Ascetics continue to show such remarkable form in the steeplechases calling for the best qualities of stamina and courage, and the Hacklers keep on winning many races every season, the Newminster line or Touchstone must still be regarded as the best for producing jumping stock.

On May 11th I drew out a list of the first twenty-four winning steeplechase stallions as they stood at that date, the lead being taken by Ascetic and Hackler, and this is how they came out in the male line:—

TOUCHSTONE.—Hackler, Ascetic, Marciòn, Bushey Park, Royal Meath, and Speed (through Newminster); Noble Chieftain (through Scottish Chief); and Victor Wild (through Marsyas); total, 8.

BIRDCATCHER.—Red Prince II., Juggler, and Laveno (through Stockwell); Isinglass, Enthusiast, Ravensbury, and Common (through Sterling); total, 7.

BLACKLOCK.—St. Frusquin, Buckingham, Florizel II., St. Simonmimi, St. Serf, Childwick, and Donovan (all through Galopin); total, 7.

MELBOURNE.—Marco and Wolfs Crag (through Barcaldine); total, 2.

Tracing these two dozen stallions still further back in male line, one perceives that the descendants of Eclipse are no less successful in steeplechasing than in flat-racing. There is not a single Herod among the twenty-four, Eclipse claiming all save two, these exceptions belonging to the Matchem tribe, through Melbourne. The cry for Herod blood is often repeated nowadays, but the majority of our breeders of blood-stock are scarcely likely to desert the Eclipse line in the face of this and much other evidence of its pre-eminence.

When is the last word on Ascetic as a sire of jumpers to be written? For years the praises of the old horse have been sounded in regard to new and repeated triumphs. As far back as August, 1897, the son of Hermit died at the advanced age of twenty-six, yet nine years later we find him still among the most successful steeplechase sires, and represented, moreover, in the Grand National by the first and third horses, with still another of his progeny among the select few who completed the course.

The majority of the Ascetics now in training have won races, all adding their quota in testimony to the marvellous capacity of the horse. During the past season Ascetic claimed ten winners of sixteen races, value £3,253, the chief contributors having been Ascetic’s Silver, Aunt May, Hill of Bree, and Æsthetic Anne. The winner of the Grand National is thoroughbred, and how the statement came to be made a few days ago that he is not so is surprising, seeing that the horse is registered all right in the “General Stud Book.” He has good jumping blood on both sides of the house, being out of Silver Lady by Ben Battle (sire of Ambush II., and grandsire of Manifesto), out of Lady Pitt by Plum Pudding. The combination of Ascetic and Ben Battle is enormously strong, and Mr. P. J. Dunne surely had his eyes on the highest honours of steeplechasing when he put Silver Lady to Ascetic in three successive years.

Unfortunately, Mr. Dunne did not live long enough to see his judicious methods of breeding crowned with the best possible success, but it was in his colours that Ascetic’s Silver won the Irish Grand National in 1904, thus foreshadowing his greater victory at Liverpool.

In the light of subsequent events, Prince Hatzfeldt got an extremely cheap horse in Ascetic’s Silver at 850 guineas at the sale of Mr. Dunne’s stud in October last. He was lucky, indeed, to secure him at that price. I know one sportsman who went from England to the sale with the fixed intention of buying the horse. He was prepared to go to 1,200 guineas for the son of Ascetic, and was so confident of getting him that he took his groom with him to Ireland to bring the horse back. Alas! on the morning of the sale my friend was unfortunate enough to listen to the counsel of one who should have been in a position to know all about the animal in question. “Don’t touch Ascetic’s Silver,” implored this adviser, for reasons he gave. And so the would-be buyer, having got the “straight tip,” would make no higher bid than 500 guineas. It is not difficult to imagine his chagrin when Ascetic’s Silver cantered away with the National; though it is only fair to mention that he had experienced a corresponding feeling of delight on his “escape” when the horse went somewhat amiss at Sandown Park early in February. It is certain that Ascetic’s Silver would have started at a much shorter price than 20 to 1 had it not been for this incident. But it is possible that the mishap at Sandown Park was mainly due to lack of condition, because when he was properly wound up the horse had no trouble in accomplishing the immeasurably more difficult task.

I am not in possession of the complete figures relating to Ascetic’s career at the stud, but the following table should prove interesting, being a record of the doings of his progeny under National Hunt Rules for ten seasons past:—

Season. No. of Winners. No. of Races Won. Value. £ 1896–7 6 12 966 1897–8 10 12 1,094 1896–9 12 25 2,381 1899–1900 18 33 6,099 1900–1 18 29 3,246 1901–2 13 26 4,686 1902–3 19 45 6,985 1903–4 21 45 4,894 1904–5 10 15 1,421 1905–6 10 16 3,253 ——— ——————— Total 276 £35,025 ——— ———————