Free The Flood-Tide by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles Page A

forgotten the incident in the busy press of her days.
    *
    Edward was miserable from his first day at Eton. He and Horatio lodged with a sour, hard-mouthed woman called Dame Weston, whose parsimony meant privations for the boys in the way of food and coals which came hard to growing youngsters. Edward was a quiet, hard-working, obliging boy, who made no particular enemies amongst his fellows, but by the same token made no particular friends. Horatio made it clear from the beginning that he resented sharing a name with a farmer's son, and had no intention of being friendly with him: indeed, he took the lead in deriding Edward's peculiar habits, such as washing, and saying his prayers night and morning, and writing home, and reading books. Like all boys, Edward wanted to be inconspicuous amongst his peers, so he soon modified those aspects of strangeness, and once Horatio tired of baiting him, the other boys let him alone.
    In his lessons Edward did well, for he had been well taught by Father Ramsay. Being by nature obedient and willing to please, he avoided the most savage beatings by the masters, though flogging and birching were so much part of education at Eton that it was impossible to remain entirely unscathed. Eton was only the width of the river from Windsor, where King George liked to spend much of his time. King George had a great interest in education. When he rode across the river to Eton, he would cry cheerfully to any boy he met, 'Well, well, my boy, when were you last flogged, eh?' If there happened to be a master about, the King would enjoin him to put the boy's name on the list for the next round of punishments. It was no comfort to the boys that the young princes were flogged as savagely, or that it was all done for their own good.
    Lessons consisted mostly of Latin grammar, construing and composing, with a little writing and arithmetic on alternate days. The many other subjects Edward had been taught at home - French and Italian, astronomy, history, geography, theology - were quite neglected, but he soon learned not to talk of them, for to be highly educated was considered ungentlemanly, suitable only to 'ushers and Jesuits'. With the ill will of Horatio to help rumour along, he might have become unpopular, but he did his best to hide his education, and showed a willingness to help the others with their 'construes', and was soon put down as being 'clever', which was an epithet of pity rather than contempt. A man could no more help being 'clever' than being blind or crippled.
    But even if a boy avoided being beaten by the schoolmasters, he might still be beaten by his fag-master when he returned to his boarding house. Edward was unfortunate in being assigned to fag for one of the worst of the seniors, a boy called Stevens, who was lazy and vicious and brutal, and as arbitrary and whimsical as any tyrant. Edward had no particular wit or charm to defend himself against such a person. Even before he had learnt what his duties were, he was being beaten for failing in them, and if he managed to get something right, Stevens would change the rules and beat him just the same.
    Even the other boys, hardened to physical punishment and receiving a good deal of it themselves one way and another, pitied Edward, and were grateful Fate had not assigned them to Stevens. Sometimes when he had been beaten for a speck of mud on Stevens' boot, or because his fire smoked when the wind was in the east, they would gather round Edward with a certain rough sympathy to examine his wounds.
    ‘Two of 'em are bleeding, Morland. I will say Stevens knows his stuff.'
    ‘That one's a bit low.'
    ‘His aim is never up to much after the second bottle.' ‘Thank God I've got Crosby. Crosby can't flog for anything.’
    The toast was Edward's worst trial. It was his duty to toast Stevens' bread and cheese for his supper, and it had to be done perfectly, not undercooked or burnt, and ready fresh and hot at the exact moment that Stevens wanted it.