Be Herbert Stockhore all my theme, The laureate’s praises I indite; He erst who sung in Montem’s praise, And Thespis like, from out his cart Recited his extempore lays On Eton’s sons, in costume smart, Who told of captains bold and grand, Lieutenants, marshals, seeking salt; Of colonels, majors, cap in hand, Who bade e’en majesty to halt; Told how the ensign nobly waved The colours on the famous hill; And names from dull oblivion saved, Who ne’er the niche of fame can fill; Who, like to Campbell, lends his name To many a whim he ne’er did write; When witty scholars, to their shame, ’Gainst masters hurl a satire trite. But fare thee well, Ad Montem’s bard, Farewell, my mem’ry’s early friend; May misery never press thee hard, Ne’er may disease thy steps attend; Be all thy wants by those supply’d, Whom charity ne’er fail’d to move; Etona’s motto, crest, and pride, Is feeling, courage, friendship, love. Poor harmless soul, thy merry stave Shall live when nobler poets bend; And when Atropos to the grave Thy silvery locks of grey shall send, Etona’s sons shall sing thy fame, Ad Montem still thy verse resound, Still live an ever-cherished name, As long as salt and sock abound.
The “famous hill” alluded to in these verses now presents a most melancholy appearance, its summit being vulgarised by a _châlet_ of miserable design, whilst, as has been said, the glory of the Inns close by has long departed. For some time after Montem days, however, the Windmill (Botham’s) seems to have been an occasional resort of Etonians, for an interesting oak table (saved from the fire), which is now in the possession of the popular Master--Mr. Edward Littleton Vaughan--has carved upon it the names of some seventy well-known Etonians, besides initials, and dates, mostly ranging from 1845 to 1857. It would therefore seem that, contrary to tradition, the names were not carved after Montem, but are rather those of boys who frequented Botham’s, as their predecessors had frequented the old Christopher.
In the course of the various changes which Eton has undergone, the old Quadrangle (till 1706 not paved but grass), which in old Montem days was gay with a riot of high-spirited youth, has, on the whole, escaped disfiguring alteration. The original intention of the founder was to have a cloister in the Quadrangle; and a line of lead running beneath the windows, together with some foundations discovered in 1876, lead one to suppose that such a scheme was actually begun. On the whole, the general aspect of the school-yard, which enthusiastic Etonians regard as a sort of “rose-red city half as old as time,” remains unaltered. New, however, are the pinnacles of the Chapel and the Gothic window of the Hall.