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HE WILL DECEIVE
AN ALEX HARPER THRILLER
BOOK 5
MARK AYRE
Copyright © 2022 by Mark Ayre
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
V1.1
Created with Vellum
 GET A FREE THRILLER

FREE NOVELLA: What happened when Alex met Alex?

When friends meet at a cabin in the woods, it’s supposed to be the

perfect getaway - until secrets emerge and lies are revealed.

As temperatures begin to boil over, it’s up to Alex Harper and Alex

Monroe, meeting for the first time, to calm things down - before
someone loses their life…

Get your exclusive free copy of We All Tell Lies when you join Mark’s
author newsletter at markayrewriting.com/harper-prequel
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
 1

F orget what you saw.

It was Delilah’s mother’s voice that whispered through her
mind as she left her en-suite, fluffy towels wrapped around her
body and head.
Don’t ask questions. Don’t rock the boat.
Easier said than done. Her head was a mess. She had thought
the hot water would help clear her mind. All it did was give her time
to think.
To remember.
Do you want to end up like me?
That one was easy. No way.
Well then. Remember what it was like.
And she did.
The bedroom she shared with her husband was almost as large
as the flat she and her mother had occupied after her father left. A
glass-topped table stood against a shell-framed mirror. The value of
the make-up bottles and brushes scattered over the surface, their
gold and silver stencilled brand names glinting in the sun, could have
fed the pair for a week. Instead, they had often gone hungry.
What use is happiness, her mother’s voice reminded her, if you
can’t put food on the table?
Quite.
 Amongst the make-up lay her iPhone - the latest model, of
course. It buzzed, rattling across the glass surface as she entered
the room.
You’re the luckiest girl alive
She was. At her mother’s knee, Delilah had learned there was
nothing to be prized above financial security. It was a lesson she had
taken to heart, her childhood after her father’s departure serving as
a painful reinforcement of why this was the case.
So why could she not forget? Put from her mind both the incident
and the pattern of behaviour that preceded it.
She had no friends. The text could only be from Teddy. Her
husband.
Who else do you need? said her mother.
No one. No argument. And still, her mind turned to the events of
the other night. Teddy deep in conversation with the tall man in the
sharp suit.
A breeze crept through the window and brushed against Delilah’s
bare, damp arms. It was cold. She wanted to dry herself and get
dressed but went for her phone. Teddy did not like to be kept
waiting.
Work is dull. Can’t wait to see you. x
Work.
The word had the same effect as the cool breeze. The memories
came again, and her mother’s voice picked up in intensity and pace.
Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the boat.
Teddy would expect a response, so she fired one off.
Can’t wait to see you either. x
His reply was almost instantaneous.
I got you something. Look under the bed.
The bed was the room’s centrepiece. A four-poster monstrosity
with a mattress the size of a small continent. It was so far off the
ground that Delilah went to bed every night afraid she might roll
over in her sleep and break her back when she eventually hit the
floor.
The bedsheets splashed off the mattress, hitting the floor and
covering the space beneath the frame. An impressive feat, given
how considerable the area was - enough for several suitcases, bags
of out-of-season clothing, and a rhinoceros. Delilah and Teddy had
always kept it clear. Why faff around rooting beneath the bed when
you had more square footage devoted to storage than most people
had full stop?
Or, they always had kept the space clear.
Not today.
Delilah saw at once what Teddy had left for her. A white paper
bag.
Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the boat.
Her heart rate quickened. She attempted to close the door on her
memories, but they had a battering ram. There was Teddy with the
tall man. Neither looked happy, but while Mr Tall’s skin was purple,
her husband’s was the palest white she had ever seen. At least until
the tall man handed over a bag not dissimilar to the one beneath the
bed and said something Delilah could not make out - as she had
been unable to make out any of their conversation.
Then Teddy’s skin went green.
Did Teddy know she’d been snooping around when she was
supposed to be asleep? Did he know what she had seen? Was he
taunting her? Delilah didn’t know what to do. The walls of her mind
seemed to be closing in. Perhaps it was better to be honest with her
husband.
No. Keep quiet. Forget it. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t rock the
boat. Don’t rock the boat.
Don’t be like me.
Yes, don’t be like her mother, who chased happiness,
overbalanced, and tumbled into poverty, dragging her daughter with
her.
Happiness is overrated.
It was.
Delilah reached for the bag and screamed as her fingers touched
the paper.
Idiot girl.
Fair comment. A shock had jumped through her hand when she
touched the bag, but not the hand that had made contact. It was
the hand clutching her phone - another text.
Well… Are you happy? x
The bag clutched in a trembling fist, Delilah scrambled out from
under the bed and clambered onto the mattress. Teddy was awaiting
a reply, and he was an impatient man.
Very impatient.
At least she hadn’t been in the shower when his message came
through.
On closer inspection, she was relieved to see it was certainly not
the bag Tall had handed to her husband. She tore away the paper,
finding wisps of red lace one might easily mistake for a mouse’s
handkerchief inside. A more robust red item was either a bra or a
Medieval torture device.
It was hideous. She despised it.
She texted her husband.
I love it.
Good girl, whispered her mother.
But had she done enough? The next buzz suggested perhaps
not.
Send pics.
Back to the other night. The tall man handed over the bag and
then closed in on her husband. A few whispered words (a threat?),
and he was gone. Delilah had run back to bed. Her husband
appeared a few minutes later. She heard shame and anger in his
laboured, heavy breaths. When he woke her, she thought it might be
to talk. Something had been wrong for weeks - if not months. Would
he finally open up?
No.
He was naked. He tore off her clothes and took her without a
word, turning away when he was done. Afterwards, as she trembled
in the dark, she listened to her mother’s voice.
Your husband keeps you warm and fed. He keeps a roof over
your head, takes you on holiday, and buys you pretty things. Your
only job is to keep him happy. Otherwise…
Delilah closed her eyes. This time, rather than the tall man in the
sharp suit, she saw the tiny flat she and Mum had shared. Delilah on
the carpet, hungry. Her mother on the sofa, sobbing. Always
sobbing.
Off came the towel, on went the lingerie. It was as
uncomfortable as expected. The last thing she wanted was to look in
the mirror, but that was the only way to get a picture that met
Teddy’s standards, and it was her duty to please him.
She took several photos. Although they turned her stomach, she
knew he would like them. She was under no illusions about the way
she looked. Men had been staring at her in the street ever since she
hit puberty. Her mother had gone on about how lucky she was. She
could have any man she wanted.
And hadn’t she found the perfect one? Handsome and wealthy,
Teddy was the kind of man most girls dreamed of.
She attached the photos to a text and hit send as though the
button would disarm a bomb set to detonate any second.
She wanted them gone.
Another buzz came after a few minutes. When she opened the
message, she saw her husband in a bathroom cubicle, his trousers
around his ankles.
Tears came to her eyes. She deleted the picture.
Another text followed. A message this time.
You’re so hot.
And another.
I’m coming home for lunch. I’ll knock. Answer the door
wearing that. Nothing else. I can’t wait to fuck you.
That brutal word elicited a visceral reaction in Delilah, and she
had to clasp her hand to her mouth for fear she might be sick. As if
that would stop it.
Did he have to talk to her like that?
He’s your husband. He can talk to you however he likes. Reply.
Tell him you can’t wait.
Delilah got out her phone but hesitated. Was this fair? She was
the love of his life. And there was something wrong. Should he not
be discussing his worries rather than sleeping with her on his lunch
break and rushing back to work? As if she was his mistress rather
than his wife.
 Ungrateful.
She shook her head in response to her mother. She didn’t feel
ungrateful.
Don’t rock the boat.
Don’t challenge him.
Don’t end up like me.
No. She couldn’t have that.
Delilah dried her eyes and went to her phone. Her fingers tapped
the screen. Again, she hit send in a rush, afraid she would be unable
to if she hesitated.
I can’t wait. x
It didn’t matter what he wanted. How degrading it was. Her
mother was right. Delilah had one job.
Be a good wife.
Yes. Be a good wife.
That’s what she would do.
 2

T here was an unexpected car on his mother’s driveway.

That did not bode well.
Xander parked behind it and got out, glancing along the
street he knew so well. It was quiet. Two men sat bickering in a car
thirty yards away. Other than that, he saw no one. The kids were at
school, their teachers struggling to compete for attention with their
bubbling excitement about the impending Christmas break. Most
adults - like his father - were at work. That left the retirees, like his
mother.
Maggie hadn’t wanted him to come.
“It could happen any minute,” she’d said. “It could be happening
right now.”
“Is it?”
“No, but that’s worse. It’ll happen when you’re with your mum.”
“I won’t stay long.”
She snorted.
“I won’t,” he said. “Besides, I’ll have my phone, and you’ll have
Lexi.”
“She’s not coming to the hospital.”
Xander understood her horror. Lexi would be equally displeased
with the idea.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be in and out.”
 That was still the plan. His mother had asked him to come for a
coffee (a euphemism for ‘chat’ given neither drank coffee), and he
couldn’t say no. She loved being retired but having so much time on
her hands required adjustment, especially with her husband still
working. Given the timing, Xander would have sent Yasmin in his
place. But his childless sister was making use of off-peak pricing to
enjoy a winter holiday in Switzerland with her girlfriend. So, it was
down to him.
Jackie Harper opened the door with her usual effusiveness.
“Alex, you’re here. Come in, come in.”
Like most people who had known Xander before he met Lexi, his
mother still called him Alex. She led him into the living room where
he had watched cartoons as a child but insisted on guiding him to a
seat as though he were a guest visiting for the first time.
“What will you drink?” she asked as he dutifully sat in the
armchair across from the larger of the two sofas. “Juice, squash,
water?”
“Water’s fine. Mum, as I said, I can’t stay—“
“Oh, where are my manners? I almost forgot: introductions. Alex,
dear, this is my good friend Judy. We worked together for many
years and retired at the same time. We’ve been keeping one another
busy.”
Judy sat on the sofa opposite Xander’s armchair. She was of a
similar age to his mother but slimmer and shorter. She looked almost
delicate, and there was a nervous look in her eyes. Perhaps Xander’s
mother was holding her hostage.
“Hi.” He raised a hand.
“Hello.”
“I’ve told Judy all about you,” said his mother. “Isn’t he
handsome, Jude?”
The question embarrassed Judy, and she gave a brief nod.
Xander resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was the co-founder and
co-owner of one of the fastest-growing marketing agencies in the
country. He was raising three kids with Lexi - their daughter, Lyla,
plus her niece and nephew, Olivia and Sebastian - and he was about
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of School-life at
Winchester College
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the
laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: School-life at Winchester College

or, the reminiscences of a Winchester junior under the
old régime, 1835-40.

Author: Robert Blachford Mansfield

Release date: February 12, 2024 [eBook #72944]

Language: English

Original publication: London: David Nutt, 1893

Credits: MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
images generously made available by The Internet
Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCHOOL-LIFE AT

WINCHESTER COLLEGE ***
 SCHOOL-LIFE AT
WINCHESTER COLLEGE

A “HOT” AT FOOT BALL

THE COMMONERS HAVE RED AND THE COLLEGE BOYS BLUE JERSEYS.

SCHOOL-LIFE
AT
WINCHESTER COLLEGE;
OR,
The Reminiscences of a Winchester Junior
UNDER THE OLD RÉGIME, 1835-40.
 WITH A GLOSSARY OF WORDS, PHRASES, AND CUSTOMS,
PECULIAR TO WINCHESTER COLLEGE.

By ROBERT BLACHFORD MANSFIELD,

AUTHOR OF
“THE LOG OF THE WATER-LILY,” “THE WATER-LILY ON THE DANUBE,” ETC. ETC.

THIRD EDITION.

LONDON:
DAVID NUTT, 270-71 STRAND.
P. & G. WELLS, WINCHESTER.
1893.
 PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION.
a.d. 1893 being the quincentennial anniversary of our glorious
foundation, an enterprising publisher has undertaken to bring out a
third edition of this sketch of the life of a Winchester Junior in the
dark ages of 1835-40. Thirty years have elapsed since the book was
originally written, twenty since the second edition was brought out,
and fifty-seven since I first became a Wykehamist.
No one is more aware than myself how entirely devoid of literary
merit is this little book; but as it is a true and faithful account of the
state of the school under a system that has long been superseded,
any interest that it may have must increase from year to year, as the
times of which it treats become more distant, and the manners and
customs which it depicts present a greater contrast to those of the
present day. Except in the last chapter, which I have rewritten, there
is but little difference between this and the previous editions, firstly
because I have nothing to add or alter in my record, and secondly,
because the work being stereotyped, considerable expense would
have been incurred by altering all those passages which, written in
1862, allude to the then existence of Dr. Moberly, the state of
Meads, and Antechapel at that date, &c., &c., which the reader can
correct for himself, but which do not in any way affect the object of
the work, viz., the economy of the school in 1835-40.
The representation of “a Hot” by Mr. Holmes gives an excellent
idea of that peculiar feature of the game of football as played at
Winchester at the date of which I write. The other pictures by Mr.
Garland sufficiently well represent the architectural features of the
College, but justice is scarcely done to the figures of the boys, who
did not go through their labours and amusements in such rigid style
as might be inferred from their figures and attitudes as here
represented. The cuts in the Glossary would also have been more
effective if the artist (not Mr. Garland) had ever seen a Winchester
scholar in his peculiar costume.
The sweeping changes that commenced during my school-days
were mainly owing to the initiative of Charles Wordsworth, the late
lamented Bishop of St. Andrews, as distinguished at Oxford for his
scholarship and as a theologian as he was for his supreme
excellence in cricket, rowing, tennis, skating, and all athletic
exercises. He had been appointed to the office of Second Master one
half year before I came as a boy, and, with the willing assistance of
the beloved Warden, Barter, and the Head-Master, speedily began to
make many much-needed changes in the arrangements, which have
made Winchester equal, if not superior, to any other public school as
regards the comfort and wellbeing of the boys, and worthy of its
glorious reputation for five hundred years.
I take this opportunity of expressing my great gratification at the
success of the book, and to express my thanks to my numerous
correspondents for their flattering letters. Wykehamists of every
standing have expressed their interest in this account of the
manners and customs of the School in times past, and those of my
own have testified to its accuracy. From India and America I have
received most interesting letters from old school-fellows, who had
discovered from internal evidence the personality of the writer. In
one quarter alone have I met with adverse criticism. I was accused
(shortly after the publication of the first edition) by “The
Wykehamist” (a monthly publication, edited by the boys at
Winchester) of having been actuated by a feeling of ill-will towards
the School, and of untruth. How such an idea as the former could
have been gathered from the book I am at a loss to conceive, and
when it was first published the only merit that I knew it possessed
was its truth. And now I have the best public testimony to my
veracity;—a cotemporary, Mr. Gould Adams, who, in the preface to
his charming book “Wykehamica” (a work which should be one of
“the hundred books” possessed by every Wykehamist), states that
he has been indebted for some of the materials for his work to “my
very truthful picture of the Winchester of my day.”
 The Bishop of St. Andrews, who kindly allowed me to use his
engravings of the “Trusty Servant,” and of the large tablet at the
west end of school with the inscription “Aut disce,” &c.; Mr.
Mackenzie Walcot, who permitted me to use the cut of the old
Commoners Buildings that appeared in his work on Winchester
College, and my cousin, Mr. Elliot Blackstone, of New College and the
British Museum, who greatly assisted me in bringing out the first
edition, when I was abroad, have all passed away. But I must again
(for the third time) give vent to my feelings of gratitude to the Rev.
H. Moberly for answering the many questions I troubled him with,
and to my cousin, the Rev. Algernon Simeon, for his valuable
assistance in compiling the slang glossary, and to Mr. Wrench for the
very great assistance he has rendered me in supplying me with
information as to the alterations in the manners and customs of the
School, which I have embodied in the last chapter.
 CONTENTS.
PAGE

CHAPTER I.
Introduction, 17
CHAPTER II.
OF THE LOCUS IN QUO AND DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Plan of College Buildings—Dons—College Præfects—
Candlekeepers— Dress—Choristers—Commoner Buildings
—Præfects—Coursekeeper, 25
CHAPTER III.
TREATS OF SOME MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
A Fag’s Duties—His Respect for Præfects—Præfects’
Responsibilities—Code of Honour—Lying Scouted—
Exceptional Anecdote—Certain Things considered
Common Property—Slang—Nicknames of Officials and
Under-Porter—Whole Holidays—Remedies—Half Holidays
—Sundays—Hills, 37

CHAPTER IV.
THE JUNIOR’S START IN COLLEGE LIFE.
πεμπε—Tin Gloves—Test of Founder’s Kin—Tutor and Pupil—
The Fag “in Course,” 53
CHAPTER V.
THE JUNIOR IN CHAMBERS.
Choosing Chambers—Furniture of Chambers—Junior’s Duties
—Toy-time—Mess—Sound Sleepers—Sitting up—The
Scheme—Toefitying—Spree Mess—Theatricals, 58
 CHAPTER VI.
THE JUNIOR IN HALL.
Rush for Trenchers, &c.—Description of Hall—Toasting and
Cooking—Receipt for Fried Potatoes—Tea—Luncheon—
Conning for Bands—Beever Time—Dinner—Dispars—
Fagging in Hall—Kitchen, 77

CHAPTER VII.
THE JUNIOR IN CHAPEL.
The Late Warden—The Antechapel—The Crimean Memorial—
The New Tower—Hours of Service—The Oath—Cloisters, 91

CHAPTER VIII.
THE JUNIOR IN SCHOOL.
Description of School—Scobs—Officers—Division of Classes—
Prizes and Medals—Long and Short Half—Easter Time—
Commoners’ Speaking—Cloisters—Latin Composition—
Flogging—Scraping and Shirking Out—Latin Verses—
Pealing, 100
CHAPTER IX.
THE JUNIOR ON A LOCKBACK HOLIDAY.
Fagging Choristers—Crutch—Currell—Concerts—Fighting—
How to Catch the Measles—“Books Chambers,” 119
CHAPTER X.
THE JUNIOR IN MEADS.
“Watching out”—Cricket Reminiscences—Lord’s Matches—Turf
—Football—Six and Six—Twenty-two and Twenty-two—SS
and Trees—Fines—Sick-House—Gooseberry Fool—“Going
Continent”—Long Meads—Enlargement of Meads, 128

CHAPTER XI.
THE JUNIOR ON HILLS.
On—Mizmaze—The Badger—Swimming Lessons—Practical
Jokes—Trial for Assault—Town and Gown Row, 149

CHAPTER XII.
THE JUNIOR ON LEAVE OUT.
Saints’ Days—Early Leave Out—Poaching—Rowing—A Dinner
—Sunday Leave Out, 161

CHAPTER XIII.
THE JUNIOR IN STANDING-UP WEEK.
Standing-up—Commoners—Pealing, 169
CHAPTER XIV.
THE JUNIOR IN ELECTION WEEK.
“Ad Portas”—“Electors”—“Candlesticks”—“Founders”—
Examinations—“Superannuates”—Medal Speaking—
Election Dinners—Effects of Eating Ice when Hot—
Resignation—“Domum”—“Ball”—“Jam
Lucis”—“Batlings”—Last Breakfast, 174

CHAPTER XV.
Conclusion, 187

GLOSSARY, 197
 CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
It is now nearly half a century since, full of hope and spirits, I made
my appearance at Winchester College, when I entered the gates,
proud of my position as the junior Wykehamist; and more than forty
years have elapsed since I doffed my gown, and stepped forth into
the outer world.
Times have changed since then, and perhaps in no place are the
changes more marked than in the old school. I was there at a
remarkable period, as, during my residence, important and much
required improvements and alterations were commenced in the
system of internal economy, discipline, and education, which have
continually advanced to the present day, till at last, in the opinion of
some who are well fitted to form a judgment, the operation has
been so roughly carried on, that, together with the customs that
required extirpation, some institutions have been rooted up which
might as well have been allowed to remain.
Among the more beneficial changes I may mention the
amelioration of the fagging system, from which many of the
asperities were removed while I was in the position most capable of
appreciating the benefit, and which since my departure has been still
further improved. I consider mitigated fagging a valuable institution,
and I think on this subject I can speak with authority, as when I
entered I was junior in College, and during the whole five years that
I was there I was always a fag, never having sufficiently advanced in
the school to taste the sweets of power. When I went to Winchester
the life of a junior was not made very pleasant to him for the first
year or two. I attribute this principally to the following causes:—First
and foremost, to the brutality of one or two boys; if any such now
exist, as there were in my time, (which I doubt,) their opportunities
and power of cruelty are so curtailed, and the feeling against such
proceedings both abroad and in the school so much stronger, that
their evil influence is reduced to a minimum. Secondly, to the
monstrous system of fagging at dinner-time, and the atrocities
therewith connected; the whole of which has been absolutely done
away with. And, lastly, to the unlimited extent to which watching out
at cricket, and kicking in at football, was carried; the former of which
has now been reduced within reasonable limits, and the latter
entirely abolished.
Some of my friends have expressed themselves amused with such
of my school experiences as I have occasionally recited to them, and
have from time to time urged me to publish them. I do not think I
should ever have carried out the suggestion, had not circumstances
occurred which induced me, in 1860, to take up my quarters at
Winchester for some weeks, when I was naturally led to frequent my
old haunts; and this brought many long-forgotten scenes, thoughts,
faces, and words so vividly to my recollection, that I found a real
pleasure and interest in noting them down. Whether any one will
take either pleasure or interest in reading my notes when published,
is perhaps doubtful; yet I know that, when I was a boy at College,
we were eager for any information about the former manners and
customs of the old place; and it is to the boys especially that I
address myself; and I hope that if this little book falls into the hands
of any of the juniors, they will derive some comfort from the thought
that although they may consider their own lives rather hard, others
have passed through far severer trials than theirs, unscathed, and
can yet look back to the time of their juniorship with interest and
regret. If I fail in interesting them it must be my own fault, as,
whatever my deficiencies in style and expression, I cannot plead
want of knowledge of my subject; I think also that I am impartial; I
respect my old school, and if I had boys, and could get them into it,
I would send them there; but I am not the least inclined to cry it up
at the expense of other similar establishments, of which I have had
no experience. I am certain, however, that there is no school where,
at the present day, the authorities take a more personal and careful
interest in the moral and physical wellbeing of the boys; and this is
rendered more practicable at Winchester than at most other public
schools, owing to the number being limited to about two hundred,
instead of being allowed to expand till it becomes rather a cluster of
small schools than one solid establishment.[1]
If any of my own contemporaries ever glance over these pages, I
hope they will experience a pleasure in having some scenes brought
again before their minds’ eye with which they were once familiar, but
of which the remembrance had become fainter and fainter, as they
have gradually been shadowed over by the duties and struggles of
after-life; though I fear that any such satisfaction will be damped by
the feeling of how much better they might have been described by
an abler pen.[2] I cannot expect that my book will be noticed by
anybody except Wykehamists, yet, in case it should ever attract the
notice of any one who is altogether unacquainted with Winchester, I
have given a description of the geography of the buildings (in chap,
ii.) and the institutions of the school, lacking which the book would
have been entirely without meaning to them;—all such dissertations
the Wykehamist will, of course, skip. I have, however, omitted giving
any account of the history, antiquities, and architecture of the
College, all of which have been amply described in several works
with which Wykehamists are very well acquainted, and which others
can easily procure if they desire any such information. I simply
propose as my task some account of the inner life of the boys as it
was, “Consule Planco,” illustrated by a picture of the trials and
amusements of a junior.
As I remarked above, I think fagging on the whole a laudable
institution. Some of the stories here related may not perhaps seem
to put it in a very pleasant light; but it must be remembered always,
that it is much mitigated at present, and also that, in a light and
somewhat gossiping production like this, there is more movement
and life in such anecdotes than in a relation of the ordinary
kindnesses shown by the bigger to the lesser boys; certainly, I have
a more lasting general recollection of benefits received than of
cruelties suffered; and in after-life, in the rough struggles of the
world, happy is he who has gone through such a training. Here there
is no tuft-hunting—wealth and rank have little influence, if the heart
is not open and hand skilful. A boy learns to help himself, not to be
disheartened in difficulties, and to be prepared for any emergency;
and withal a keen sense of honour, friendly rivalry, and patriotic
feeling, is continually kept in action. Commend me in a row, moral or
physical, to your public schoolman: in the former case, he will very
probably be endowed with the judgment, decision, and self-reliance
so necessary in such an emergency; and in the latter, he will be
likely to stand firm, and know the use of his left hand as well as his
right, and when, where, and how to bring both into play.
Plan of Winchester College 1835-40
 CHAPTER II.
OF THE LOCUS IN QUO AND DRAMATIS
PERSONÆ.

Plan of College Buildings—Dons—College Præfects—

Candlekeepers—Dress—Choristers—Commoner Buildings
—Præfects—Coursekeeper.
Before entering into particulars it will be necessary to give the non-
Wykehamist reader some idea of the arrangement of the College
buildings, and of their various uses in the general economy of the
institution.
The College of St Mary of Winchester (near Winchester, as it used
to be called) was, in olden times, situated outside the town, but is
now bounded on its west side by the buildings of Kingsgate Street
and College Street. The entrance is from the latter street through a
handsome portal called “outer gate,” which opens into a quadrangle,
on the east side of which is the Warden’s house; passing through
this court and another gateway (“middle gate,” above which is
“election chamber”) we enter another spacious quadrangle, the
southern side of which is formed by the chapel and hall, the western
mainly by the kitchen, and the remaining two sides by the boys’ bed-
chambers, (on the ground floor,) and the fellows’ and second
master’s lodgings above. Underneath the hall, and close to the great
hall staircase, a passage called “seventh-chamber passage” leads
into a third quadrangle of smaller dimensions, called “school court,”
on the south of which is the school, and on the east the outside wall
of the chapel cloisters; along the entire western side of the College
buildings, from College Street to the school, extend the buildings of
Commoners, (the boys not on the foundation,) the communication of
which with College is through a door on the west side of “school
court.” A passage between the school and cloister wall leads to the
playground or “meads,” adjoining the west side of which, and
divided from it by a red brick wall, is the “sick house,” (hospital,)
situated in another piece of ground called “sick-house meads.”
The chief of the whole establishment is the Warden, who has
nothing to do with the teaching of the boys; he admits and when
necessary expels them, confers on them the dignity of “Præfect,”
listens to their complaints, and, in fact, in all matters appertaining to
the management of the school and the society is omnipotent. There
are also ten Fellows, but as their duties (if any) have nothing to do
with the inner life of the school, of which alone I purpose to treat, I
need say nothing more of them. The head master, or “the Doctor” as
he is always called, lives in “Commoners’ buildings,” the inhabitants
of which are supposed to be more particularly under his jurisdiction.
The second master, who has the more immediate superintendence
of the College boys, has, as above-mentioned, his apartments in
“chamber court.” There was also an assistant master, who
superintended the instruction of the boys in the lower classes, and
who did not live in College; and three commoner tutors, who had
lodgings in Commoners’, and whose services were called into
requisition for general instruction in school as required. There was
also a mathematical master.
The school was divided into college boys and commoners; there
was a great competition to be enrolled among the former, as they
have several privileges, the greatest of which was the chance of
gaining a fellowship at New College, Oxford. I will introduce these
first. There were seventy of them; of these the eighteen seniors
were called “Præpostors,” or (more commonly) “Præfects,” and had
the power of “fagging” all the rest, with some few exceptions.
Among these eighteen, one, (generally, but not always,) the senior
in school, was called the “Præfect of hall,” and was invested with
almost absolute power, being looked upon by the “Inferiors” (i.e.
those who were not præfects) with something more than a
becoming awe and reverence. Some of his principal duties were to
take the boys “on to hills,” call names there, pay for broken windows
in hall, find the rods, &c. In school he had the seat of honour next to
the doctor’s chair, and he always slept in sixth chamber. There were
many little fees attached to this responsible office, which brought to
the fortunate possessor an income of certainly not less than fifty
pounds a year. Next to him in dignity was the “Præfect of tub,” (this
title was derived from a box in hall called “tub,” the use of which will
be hereafter explained,) whose office was more particularly
connected with the dinner department. Then there were two
“Præfects of chapel,” one of whom, on alternate weeks, called
names there, and during that week was called Præfect of chapel “in
course,” and, in case of absence of the Præfect of hall, undertook his
duties. There was also a “Præfect of school,” who had to pay for all
internal damage done to the interior of that edifice, including broken
windows, to keep it clean, to light it, and once every year to renew
the cushions of the masters’ seats. To all these offices some
emolument in the shape of salary or fees was attached, but
considerably less than that received by the Præfect of hall. The eight
senior præfects were said to have “full power,” and had some slight
privileges not enjoyed by the remaining ten, who were generally
called “Bluchers.”
As mentioned above, almost all the inferiors were subject to these
eighteen; there were, however, the following exceptions:—“The
Senior inferior,” who was exempted from fagging, to give him an
opportunity of calmly contemplating the dignity in store for him; and
the seven “Candlekeepers,” (why so called, I have no idea, nor have
I ever heard any interpretation of the appellation.) These were the
seven inferiors who had been longest in the school, quite
independently of their position in it; they were generally old and
tough. Of these, the senior had almost as much power as a præfect;
he had a “valet” in chambers, one or two “breakfast fags,” and the
power of fagging the twenty juniors when in school, or in meads.
The junior candlekeeper was called “the Deputy,” and had also some
slight privileges besides that of having a valet and breakfast-fag,
which was common to all of them. The organisation of the fagging
department was supposed to be in the hands of the candlekeepers,
but practically it was all arranged by the Senior and Deputy; and
there was a theory, that if it at any time broke down, and no fags
could be found, the præfects in full power had the right to fag the
candlekeepers; this, however, was very rarely, if ever, acted upon.
It may easily be imagined, that the offices of Senior candlekeeper
and Deputy were regarded with peculiar interest by the small
juniors, as when these posts were filled by cross individuals, the
lives of the latter were not seldom made a burden to them.
When a præfect required the services of a fag, he called out,
“Junior!” and the junior, in hall or chamber, or wherever it might be,
had to “run.”
The order of seniority in fagging depended, in College, solely on
the length of time the boys had been at the school, and was entirely
independent of their position otherwise. A certain number of boys
were of “Founder’s kin,” to which certain privileges attached, which
will be hereafter mentioned.
As regards dress, the College boys wore any trousers they liked;
but instead of an ordinary coat and waistcoat, they were usually
habited in a black, green, or brown (the latter colours were seldom
worn except by præfects, or very responsible inferiors) waistcoat,
with an upright collar, and sleeves of the same material, and a serge
gown, with full sleeves buttoning above or just below the elbow; the
gown, in walking, was very commonly tucked up in a bunch behind.
Inferiors were never allowed to wear hats inside the College walls;
the præfects seldom doffed theirs, except in the presence of a
master and when they went to bed; all were obliged to wear white
neckcloths and bands, except when on leave out; and surplices in
chapel on Sundays and saints’ days.
 OLD COMMONERS.

During the years 1839-1841 the picturesque Old Commoners was demolished. It
was built by Dr Burton, and formed an irregular quadrangle. On the west side
were the head-master’s house, an excellent ball-court, and upper and lower
cloister galleries, built over a small cloister; on the north was “Wickham’s”
buildings, containing the Hall of the juniors, various dormitories, and the residence
of the tutors; on the south were upper and lower conduit galleries, part of the
ancient “Sustern Spital,” and divided into dormitories above, and below into
apartments for the matron, and three “Continent Rooms” or sick bays. On the
ground-floor, to the west of the inner entrance, were the “Hatches,” from which
the bread or “sines,” and cans of beer, called “jorams,” were issued; the kitchens,
etc.; opening into a small court, containing a dormitory, known as “New Room.”
On the other side were the prefects’ and the tutors’ studies. On the east side of
Commoners’ Court was the wall of the college stables, and a range of fine elm-
trees, destroyed with one exception during a violent summer-storm in 1836.
Underneath the survivor was the “long bench,” so frequented in “standing-up
time.” The entrance-gate stood where the west gate of modern commoners is at
present. Parallel with the east side of the court, and to the southward of the
tutors’ studies, was the “dining hall;” and above it was a set of sleeping-rooms,
upper and lower hall galleries. On the westward of the hall was “the conduit.”—
Walcott’s William of Wykeham and his Colleges.
Besides the Warden, fellows, masters, and boys, there were
twelve “Choristers,” who must by no means be omitted, as they
formed an important part of the internal economy. I suppose they
were called Choristers because they had not to sing; certainly if ever
that was a part of their duty, it had entirely lapsed. Their office was
to wait on the boys, in hall and chambers, till seven o’clock, and
especially to go on errands in the town,—the boys themselves never
being allowed to go there, except when invited by friends on saints’
days. These little Choristers wore chocolate-coloured tail-coats and
trousers, with metal buttons; and, on the whole, I think their life
must have been a weary one.
In Commoners’, the number of boys fluctuated between one
hundred and one hundred and thirty. The building called
“Commoners’,” in which they slept and had their meals, skirted the
west side of College, and had its entrance also in College Street. It
would be useless to describe the buildings of Commoners’ as they
existed in my time; they were not in any way remarkable, and are
now entirely removed, and other and more commodious edifices,
though, perhaps, not much more beautiful, built in their place.
There were twelve Præfects in Commoners, who had the right of
fagging all the rest except those in the class immediately below
them, (called senior part the fifth,) who were exempt; when they
required the services of a Fag, they did not call “Junior!” but “Here!”
They also had an officer whose duties and privileges were somewhat
similar to those of Senior Candlekeeper and Deputy in College; his
office, however, was conferred by election among the Præfects. It
was necessary that he should be in either middle or junior part the
fifth, of reasonable bodily strength, and have been at least three
years in commoners. This dignitary was called “the Coursekeeper;”
should he be promoted into senior part the fifth, he retained the
privileges of the office without its responsibilities, and was called
“Ex-coursekeeper.”
 The College boys and Commoners rose at the same hour, attended
chapel, used the school, and went on to Hill’s together; but the latter
took their meals and slept in Commoners’, and had not the use of
meads, having a field about half a mile distant, to which they went
from twelve to one on whole school days, and again, in the
afternoon, on holidays.
The rule of seniority, as regarded fagging, was different from that
established in College. Commoner Inferiors took precedence
according to their standing in the school, not according to the length
of time they had been there. It will be seen, from what has been
said, that the College juniors had a much harder time of it than the
Commoners, as the former were in the proportion of forty-four Fags
to eighteen Præfects and seven Candlekeepers, whereas in the latter
(supposing the number of the boys to be one hundred and twenty,
and twenty to be in senior part the fifth, and exempt from fagging)
the proportion would be eighty-seven fags to twelve Præfects and
one Coursekeeper. I will, therefore, devote my attention principally
to the illustration of the life of the College Fag, which, in fact,
combines all the trials and amusements of both.
 CHAPTER III.
TREATS OF SOME MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

A Fag’s Duties—His Respect for Præfects—Præfects’

Responsibilities—Code of Honour—Lying Scouted—
Exceptional Anecdote—Certain Things considered
Common Property—Slang—Nicknames of Officials and
Under-Porter—Whole Holidays—Remedies—Half Holidays
—Sundays—Hills.
The duties of a Fag, in the days of which I write, may be more easily
described by informing the reader what he had not to do, than by
endeavouring to make out a list of his positive duties. I believe when
I say that he had not to make the beds, nor to clean shoes, I have
exhausted the negative catalogue.
The degree of awe with which we Juniors used to regard the
Præfects seems to me, looking back, most mysterious; and it would
be impossible to make a stranger realise the peculiar sensation. It
was entirely a moral feeling, not being in any way connected with
muscular power—many of the Præfects being, in physical strength,
inferior to their fags; and it was by no means uncommon to see a
small Præfect rising on his toes to reach the proper height for
administering an effective “Clow” (box on the ear) to an offending
Junior some inches taller, and a stone heavier, than himself. Nor was
there the slightest imputation of cowardice on the part of the bigger
boy,—I cannot explain it, but it seemed simply impossible to resist.
I never was a Præfect myself; and when I was a big Inferior, I
have more than once received, with perfect meekness, a “Tunding”
(thrashing with a stick) from a boy who, had he been an Inferior,
would have treated me with the greatest respect. I remember, on
one such occasion, the operator, indignant at not being able to make
me feel, searched underneath my waistcoat to see if I was not
padded for the occasion, (not an uncommon proceeding by any
means;) and on finding such was not the case, took the small end of
the stick in his hand, and finished the performance with the butt
end, and principally on my head. Nor, when ordered to “hold down”
(i.e., put your head in a convenient position) for a “Clow,” would the
victim dare to ward off the blow, or cease offering his cheek to the
smiter till it pleased the latter to desist.
Indeed, the moment a boy was made a Præfect, he seemed
immediately to become invested with a supernatural power that
changed the familiar intercourse with his former companions into
awe or respect on the one side, and tyranny or condescension on
the other, according to the nature of the individual promoted. I
remember, soon after my first arrival, and before I had quite realised
the great gulf between a Præfect and an Inferior, during breakfast-
time in hall, I saw one of the Fags put aside his master’s frying-pan,
it being required no longer. As I was in want of one at the moment,
in the innocence of my heart, I politely asked the Præfect, who was
its owner, if he would be so good as to lend it to me. I thought he
looked rather queer, but, being a good-natured youth, he said,
“Yes;” when the loud burst of laughter from the other boys
proclaimed that something unusual had happened. On inquiry, I
found that it was my astounding impertinence in making such a
request of a Præfect that had caused the excitement, and for some
little time I was looked on as quite a hero.
Though, at first sight, this kind of superstitious awe of the
Inferiors towards the Præfects may seem unprofitable, yet I am
inclined to think that, on the whole, it was not without its
advantages. Certainly, in some exceptional cases, a Præfect used to
take advantage of his position, and treat those beneath him cruelly;
but such, at any rate, was not the general character of the Præfects
in my time; and most of them used their power far more in
preventing the big Inferiors from bullying their companions, than in
inflicting torture themselves.