SE CHRONICLE 684

41 ST EDWARD’S CHRONICLE

The story is that she was so frightened that she got up and rushed downstairs, and was practically cured. But that was a legend before my time. When I went to St Edward’s I was the only possessor of a bicycle, and I taught most of the staff to ride; in fact, I think I got my nickname of “professor” from my monopoly of bicycle knowledge. Cowell became so keen a cyclist that he explored the countryside for miles around, marking all his routes on the inch Ordnance Map. If he found a stretch of two or three miles unmarked and, possibly, ten or fifteen miles away, he would spend an afternoon riding out to it and cycling over it, marking it off with satisfaction on his map. Of course, all bicycles I had were “safties”, though I well remember seeing Penny-Farthing high bicycles, and once actually rode precariously on a real bone-shaker with wooden wheels and iron tyres. I used to cycle to fish for trout at Southleigh till dusk, and cycle back 12 miles to St Edward’s to a late supper. This was the case on Mafeking Night: and though I was 10 or 12 miles from Oxford, I could see the glare of the bonfires. I returned to St Edward’s through Oxford, but did not dare to go through the principal streets – St Giles, for instance: I should have attracted too much attention, and quite probably should have found my cycle, if not myself, used to replenish a bonfire. At least, so I gathered from old Mrs Collier, the carrier who served us at St Edward’s. She told me next day that she had not dared to go on her usual journey to Oxford that afternoon, as she was quite sure that her van, if not the old horse, would have been confiscated for that purpose. We had a great celebration at St Edward’s; and I have a photograph of a big bonfire, topped by the Warden’s children’s rocking horse ridden by a caricature dummy of Kruger in a top hat. We had several very hard winters, and I particularly remember one, I think it was 1895, when the river was frozen, and we skated at Medley on the water near or above the barges, then kept by Messrs. Bossom & Beesley. The Lower River too, had frozen by the College barges below Folly Bridge, and a coach-and-four driven onto it. I think, if memory is correct, that the Mayor of Oxford was inside it, and that he looked extremely anxious. In any case, I can remember that the water spurted up through one or two holes in the ice to the height of two or three feet under the weight of the coach.

The bonfire built at St Edward’s to celebrate the end of the siege of Mafeking

crowded with every candle the boys could muster from their studies or elsewhere, and this was too much of a good thing. We had several whole holidays. Whit Monday, for instance, I specially remember, as I used to take a crew of my Set up the Cherwell in one of those big boats they call Randans, in which two of the crew row and the third sculls. We took provisions for lunch and tea, and bathed, arriving home very wet and dirty just in time for Evensong. One precaution I took was to carry two or three spare sweaters, so that when one of the boys tumbled into the water I was able to dress him with a sweater worn normally, his legs through the arms of the other sweater, and a school tie round the waist. These excursions were most enjoyable and later, as cameras became frequent, we got numbers of wonderful pictures. I formed, and was the first President of, the Camera Club. The cricket and football teams at St Edward’s were usually good. I think this was due to the proximity of Oxford, and the constant playing against good teams. Also, it

always seemed to me that we bred a rather large type of boy there. In later years the school has supplied more than its normal quota to Varsity XVs, Eights, and even some internationals. The masters took a good part

in cricket, and coached in the nets. I always remember with a thrill of satisfaction a square-leg hit from the

middle of the St Edward’s ground over the Woodstock Road and over the Lodge into the Quad beyond. I was playing against the Cygnets, a team connected with the Dragon School, and largely composed of their masters. I myself had rooms in the Lodge, and several of our team were having tea in my room, and it was just lucky that the ball did not go through the window into the tea-party. There was a legend at St Edward’s of another mighty hit. The first Warden, Algernon Barrington Simeon, was not a cricketer, but was persuaded to play for the masters v the boys on one occasion. A mighty swipe of his cleared the Woodstock Road and went through the window of a cottage where lay a bed-ridden woman.