The original practice in the Lower boats was to employ watermen (known as “cads”) as strokes and steerers. Jack Haverley, for instance, who in 1861 became the head waterman employed by the school, steered the “Defiance” as late as 1830. Another old custom practised on great occasions was for each boat to have in it some visitor to Eton. When, as sometimes happened, the honoured guest chanced to be a demure gentleman in black, he looked singularly out of place amidst the gay costumes of the crew. In old-fashioned times this “sitter,” as he was called, sat in the centre of the boat to keep it steady, but in later years he reclined in the stern, usually with a large hamper of champagne in front of him, it being the custom for a sitter to make the boys a present of wine. In those far-distant days little check would seem to have been placed upon the boys indulging freely in alcohol. The writer’s uncle, who as Lord Walpole steered the “Etonian” in 1830, often told of the glorious bowls of punch which he and his friends used to consume. From the account he gave, the Upper boys at least were then allowed in most respects to do pretty much as they liked. [SN: A TRICK] The authorities did not in any way interfere with anything connected with boating, of the very existence of which, however, according to a curious convention, they were supposed to be unaware. Dr. Keate indeed carried the practice of ignoring rowing to such an extent that when Eton beat Westminster at Maidenhead in 1831, he only heard of it because the news of the victory was forced upon him. Dr. Hawtrey, however, did recognise boating as an authorised institution; nevertheless he did nothing to remove the absurd custom of regarding boys going to the river as being out of bounds. In Keate’s day, as has elsewhere been said, the river was really forbidden before Easter, owing to an idea that the cold, chilly weather would produce illness amongst the boys. Some mischievous “wet bobs,” taking advantage of this prohibition, in 1829 played an amusing trick on the masters. The weather just before Easter happened to be very bad, and “the water” in consequence was forbidden. Nevertheless, the boats went up until a grand capture of rebellious spirits was meditated by the authorities. By some means this purpose became known, and the wags masked and dressed up eight “cads” to represent Upper boys. They had not reached Upper Hope before the scheme began to take effect. “Foolish boys! I know you all. Come ashore,” sounded from one bank. “Come here, or you all will be expelled,” re-echoed from the other. At last, after a great deal of shouting and galloping, the masks were dropped and the joke explained. [SN: SURLY HALL]