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| Montem mound 2020 from Google Streetview |
The second Tuesday in June 1832 was a dull
cloudy day, but that did not dampen the excitement felt by eighteen-year-old Richard
Weekly, as he mounted his horse in the farmyard at Perry Oaks farm (now under
Terminal Five at London Airport) and set off along Tithe Barn lane towards the
Great Bath Road. Richard was taking a
rare day off from helping his father run their 300-acre farm. He rode west along the Bath Road, through Longford
and at Colnbrook Bridge was stopped by two Eton schoolboys, called Thackeray
and Walker, who were dressed in mock military uniforms. "Give us some salt", they demanded. Richard was expecting this and
good-humouredly handed over some coins. They were raising charitable donations for the event Richard was about to witness. In return he was given a yellow ticket on which was printed, “Pro More
et Monte – Vivant Rex et Regina.” He
stuck the ticket in his hat knowing it would exempt him from any more requests for
“salt” and continued his journey. As he approached the village of
Slough, Berkshire, the roads got busier with excited crowds of people and riders. Gaily
decorated carriages lined the roads from Windsor to Slough. Richard eventually found a vantage point where
he stopped to view the event that everyone had come to see.
Every
three years the boys of Eton College dressed in bizarre clothes marched
from the school to an Anglo-Saxon burial mound at Salt Hill, on the Great Bath Road, where they climbed the
mound and performed a mock ceremony. They called the ceremony ad montem (to the
mountain), and Montem is the name of the sports centre and ice-rink that
now stands nearby.
At eleven o’clock six hundred Eton
schoolboys were assembled in the quadrangle at Eton College for the arrival of
the seven carriages carrying the Royal Party. The King had been asked for “salt” at Eton
Bridge and had handed over 50 guineas before continuing to the college. The Montem event, conveniently timed for The
Court’s relocation to Windsor for the summer, was witnessed by King William IV
and Queen Adelaide and their royal visitors. They were joined by the Provost and other
exclusive guests to watch the boys, who were all assembled in various forms of
fancy dress, parade three times around the square in front of the King, until a
heavy shower sent the Royal Party into the college to watch the ceremonial flag
waving from the windows. Then the
procession started.
Richard Weekly watched as first a schoolboy called Brown and
four attendants dressed in Spanish dresses led the parade, followed by the Band
of Scotch [sic] Fusilier guards. Then the school Captain, Williams, marched
ahead of a group of boys dressed in Greek costume. Another boy, calling himself the Sergeant
Major, in mock-military attire, was accompanied by boys in Indian costume. The
parade continued with some boys in military-type uniforms with swords and
plumes, and other boys in various forms of fancy dress. Following this motley
crew was the band of the First Life Guards and then a pupil calling himself an
Ensign with an escort of boys dressed as Highlanders. Boy musicians were followed by boys dressed in
Robin Hood-style Lincoln-green velvet.
Behind the marchers were the carriages of the Royal party, and then an
endless line of carriages carrying the nobility and gentry.
Around two in the afternoon the procession arrived at Salt Hill where the King and Queen received a huge welcoming cheer and as they stayed in their carriages the boys once again paraded before them around the Mound. Then a detachment of boys including the flag bearer climbed the mound, unfurled the flag and waved to endless applause. With the ceremony now over, the Royal carriages returned to Windsor, and the boys adjourned for refreshments to The Windmill coaching inn across the Bath Road from the Mound. The Windmill had extensive ornamental gardens around which, after lunch, the boys would normally promenade, but this year a heavy shower of rain prevented that. Now, soaked and bedraggled, the boys like a miniature routed army, made their way back towards Eton, the mud and slush underfoot spoiling their elaborate costumes. About a £1000 had been raised in “salt” and after defraying expenses what was left went to R.D. Williams, Captain of the school, and son of the bookseller and publisher of the Eton Classics. It was to pay for his education at Cambridge University.
Richard Weekly pulled his hat down hard
over his face to stop the torrents of rain hitting his face as he rode the six
miles back to Perry Oaks to relate all the sights and sounds of what he had
seen to his parents and sister.
The triannual event and the crowds it
attracted, was already a magnet for pickpockets and pilferers. As the years went by and the opening of the Great Western
Railway Station at Slough in 1838 bought hordes more sightseers from London for the event by1841 and
1844 the multitude of people became unmanageable. Few of the Londoners understood the age-old tradition of giving “salt” and refused to contribute. By 1847 the Provost and Head-master of
Eton College proposed to end the ceremony and give the Captain of the school a gratuity instead. This sparked protests
from former Etonians and a petition was sent to Queen Victoria, but without
success and the long history of the Eton Montem, probably derived from a pagan
festival, came to an end.
The
Windmill hotel
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| Windmill Hotel, Bath Road, Salt Hill, Slough, about 1850. From Slough Library collection |
The original Windmill hotel, a staging post
for coaches on the Bath Road, was burnt down in 1882 and a new pub with the
same name was built on the site by the brewery owners. This was demolished in 2000 and now the name
is preserved in a purpose-built Care Centre.
Sources:
Windsor and Eton
Express - Saturday 16 June 1832, and other contemporary newspapers.
Richard Weekly’s diary (in possession of
the author)
http://www.sloughhistoryonline.org.uk/
