In 1754, however, the ancient fame of Eton began to revive owing to the appointment of Dr. Barnard--_magnum et memorabile nomen_! He was made Headmaster through the Townshend and Walpole interests, which were active on his behalf. Under his vigorous rule the school flourished; 522 boys, the highest number known up to that time, being on the list on his promotion to the Provostship in 1756. Barnard had no patience with fopperies in boys, and had occasional “difficulties” with the Eton “swells” of his day on the point of dress.
Charles James Fox gave him a good deal of trouble. His absence at Spa for a year sent him back to Eton a regular fop, and a very sound flogging appears to have done him but very little good.
Dr. Barnard also seems rather to have despised any tendency towards fine ways in his pupils. His old pupil, Christopher Anstey, alludes to this in his _Bath Guide_, in a portion of which a critical mother, “Mrs. Danglecub,” who has a son at school,
Wonders that parents to Eton should send Five hundred great boobies their manners to mend, When the master that’s left it (though no one objects To his care of the boys in all other respects) Was extremely remiss, for a sensible man, In never contriving some elegant plan For improving their persons, and showing them how To hold up their heads, and to make a good bow, When they’ve got such a charming long room for a ball, Where the scholars might practise, and masters and all; But, what is much worse, what no parent would chuse-- He burnt all their ruffles and cut off their queues; So he quitted the school in the utmost disgrace, And just such another’s come into his place.
The “just such another” was Dr. Foster, who proved to be the very opposite of Barnard, and became highly unpopular, in great part owing to the considerable social disadvantage of his being the son of a Windsor tradesman. He was tactless and unfitted for his position, and the school did anything but prosper under his rule; indeed, the numbers dropped to 250. Meanwhile, the boys got quite out of hand, and several rebellions occurred, amongst them the famous secession of more than half the school--160 boys--to Maidenhead.
One of the ringleaders of the outbreak was Lord Harrington, a boy of much natural spirit. He was foremost amongst those who threw their books into the Thames and marched away. Like the rest of the rebels he took an oath, or rather swore, he would be d----d if ever he returned to school again. When, therefore, he came to London to the old Lord Harrington’s and sent up his name, his father would only speak to him at the door, insisting on his immediate return to Eton. “Sir,” said the son, “consider I shall be d----d if I do!” “And I,” answered the father, “will be d----d if you don’t!” “Yes, my Lord,” replied the son, “but you will be d----d whether I do or no!”